


I'd Die for You

by KaCole



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Danger, Emotional Baggage, Episode: s05e26 Equinox, Episode: s06e01 Equinox Part II, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character Death(s), Romance, UST, heroics, rebuilding a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-01-15 13:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18499828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaCole/pseuds/KaCole
Summary: After the Equinox, Chakotay and Kathryn have a long way to go to repair their fractured relationship, but are quickly thrown into a dangerous and violent situation with only each other to turn to. Can they resolve the mess they find themselves in?





	1. Prologue: Betrayal

 

While the final battle with the Equinox raged around him, Chakotay, confined to quarters, paced his carpet. Feeling furious. And impotent.  _ Betrayed _ . Not just by Ransom, although the Captain of the Equinox had done a doozy, betraying  _ Voyager, _ Starfleet and Federation values in his stinking mess of an attempt to get his crew home. But Kathryn had betrayed her own principles, and that felt much, much worse to Chakotay. She’d turned stopping Ransom into a personal vendetta, risking her own people in the process. In nearly murdering Noah Lessing she had abandoned her own moral compass. Her actions made no sense at all, but Chakotay couldn’t make her see it at the time, and he doubted she’d admit to it, even now. 

He just didn’t understand. She’d always put duty and the crew’s needs before her personal feelings. At least he’d thought so, but perhaps he had been deluding himself. It was hard to reconcile his belief with what he’d witnessed today. She’d never come close to following what he thought—hoped—was in her heart when it came to their personal relationship. Yet clearly she was more than capable of being driven by her emotions, when she wanted to be. 

He kicked at the chair by his table as he passed on yet another lap of his prison. How could she ignore his advice and relieve him of duty like this? After all they had been through. All they shared. All they _meant_ to one another. Obviously he’d been wrong about a great many things. Anger and disappointment, simmering through him for hours, finally boiled over, and he lashed out at the bulkhead. As his knuckles exploded in white hot pain the truth hit him with shattering force: Kathryn had never loved him at all.

In the empty silence of his room he let himself slide to the floor, choking back bitter tears he refused to shed. He closed his eyes and banged his head back against the wall, once, twice, three times. He needed to put some emotional distance between he and Kathryn or he’d lose his mind. His efforts to dial back his feelings for her after the debacle with the Borg and Species 8472 had been half-hearted at best. It only took a glance, or a touch to start him dreaming and hoping again, tearing him into a million tiny pieces every day. No more.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually his comms chimed. 

“Tuvok to Commander Chakotay. You are cleared to return to duty. Please report to me for a full report on our current status.”

And there it was, like a dagger in his heart. She didn’t even have the decency to talk to him herself. He couldn’t carry on like this. He had to find a way to be a loyal first officer—she might forget her principles, he wouldn’t—but without the constant emotional turmoil.

He forced himself to his feet, straightened his uniform, raised his chin and set his shoulders. He could do this. 

#

Chakotay was in the middle of organising repairs when the captain emerged from her ready room. She hadn’t even spoken to him properly before now, busying herself for hours with repairs and dealing with the sorry remains of Ransom’s people. 

“How's the crew?” she asked.

He eyed her warily. “A lot of frayed nerves. Neelix is organising a potluck to help boost morale.”

“Will I see you there?” her eyes sought his.

“I'm replicating the salad,” he said, noncommittally.

“I'll bring the croutons. Chakotay. You know, you may have had good reason to stage a little mutiny of your own,” she offered.

Perhaps that was what she considered an apology these days. Chakotay shrugged. “The thought occurred to me, but that would have been crossing the line.” He kept his distance, talking to her from the other side of the bridge, continuing to pick up debris as he went.

“Will you look at that?” she said, glancing back at him. During the skirmish,  _ Voyager's  _ dedication plaque had fallen. “All these years, all these battles. This thing's never fallen down before.” She looked almost choked, and he felt the familiar tug at his heart.

“Let's put it back up where it belongs,” he said kindly, but he avoided touching her hand as they re-fixed the plaque to the wall, and he didn’t linger when the job was finished. 

First Officer Chakotay stood ready to serve his captain, always, but Chakotay the man was done loving Kathryn Janeway.


	2. Attempted Repairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn hopes she and Chakotay can talk, but he's not ready to listen to her.

Kathryn knew Chakotay was still angry, and she didn't really blame him. She’d gone too far. Let her fury at Ransom, the depth of which she still didn't completely understand, blind her to the bigger picture. How had she gotten so out of control? She had been righteously furious that Ransom tortured innocent life forms to get home faster, when she'd literally stranded her crew 70,000 light years from home to protect the Ocompa. That he'd ridden roughshod over protocol and Starfleet values when she'd given up so much to uphold those same principles just added insult to injury. If there was more to it than that, well, she didn't want to think about it too deeply. She wanted to fix things and return to the task of getting this crew home. She didn't have the luxury of navel gazing.

Chakotay hid his anger well, of course, but he’d lacked his customary warmth over the past week, and she noticed it keenly. He was as adept and polite as ever, but went out of his way to avoid her off duty. He even turned down their weekly dinner, where she'd hoped to make some repairs. He'd told her many years ago, after an ill-judged decision to go off on his own, that disappointing her hurt him the most. It was disappointment she sensed in him now. He felt badly let down. She wasn't even sure which part of the debacle had upset him most. Was it Lessing's bluff? She remained convinced that Lessing would have cracked, and was still slightly perplexed that Chakotay didn't see it the same way. More likely he was angry that she hadn't listened to his good advice. The fact that she'd relieved him of duty and confined him to quarters must have stung like hell. She shouldn't have done that to him. In the past, he'd have told her long before now exactly what was on his mind, and they'd have put this all behind them. 

Still. He would come around. He always did. If there was a faint voice at the back of her mind warning her he might not always forgive her, then she paid it little heed. She'd just have to try a little harder to repair the damage.

#

An opportunity presented itself the very next day. Kathryn had left a contingent of the crew on shore leave at what appeared to be a friendly space station, while  _ Voyager _ travelled to the next system and began mining dilithium and other ores needed for structural repairs. A fine plan, until word came back that some kind of ruckus between Tom Paris, Harry Kim and a delegation of alien visitors on the Falid space station had ended with her officers in custody. She was tempted to let them sweat it out, but since the mining hardly required her oversight, a fews hours on neutral ground might be just what she and Chakotay needed.  

“Commander Chakotay and I will take a shuttle and liaise with the Falid authorities.” Kathryn motioned to the view screen. “I’m sure we can clear this misunderstanding up. Tuvok, you’re in command until we return.” 

Tuvok raised an eyebrow, and Kathryn felt Chakotay’s stare, but her first officer said nothing until they were standing inside the turbolift.

“Captain, I don’t see that this needs both of us. Wouldn’t it make more sense to take Tuvok and leave me in command here?”

Kathryn opened her mouth to disagree, but closed it again. Dismissing his opinion was the last thing she should do right now. “You’re probably right, but I’d value a little time to talk. Away from  _ Voyager _ .”

He looked uncertain, as if he wanted to escape, but didn’t quite know how. In the end, he nodded his head slightly and followed her to the shuttle bay.

Twenty minutes later, running pre-flight checks on the  _ Tereshkova,  _ Kathryn glanced at Chakotay from the corner of her eye. He’d relaxed a little, but still looked guarded. Like he didn’t completely trust her anymore. They had to get back on track.

“Would you like to take the helm, Commander?” she asked.

“If it’s all the same to you, Captain,” he said, with a quick flash of his dimpled smile, “with my track record and shuttles maybe you should stay in the pilot’s chair.”

“I have every faith in you, Chakotay. But I’m happy to fly.” She smiled, hoping the warmth was starting to seep back between them. Perhaps by the end of this mission they would be bantering again. She activated the comms. “Janeway to Tuvok. Request permission to disembark.”

“You are cleared to leave,  _ Tereshkova. _ ”

Kathryn engaged the thrusters and took them out of the launch bay with a steady hand. “Very good. We’ll report in every six hours.”

“Acknowledged. Safe journey, Captain.” 

“Janeway out.”

It would take them three hours to reach the Falid star base, and once the course was plotted and laid in, there was very little to do. 

Chakotay stood up. “I brought some crew evaluations to finish.” He nodded to the back area of the shuttle. “I’ll be—”

“I hoped we could talk,” she interjected gently.

He paused, and turned back, with a quizzical look on his face. “Who’s asking? The captain, or Kathryn?”

Her throat tightened, her heart sinking. “Kathryn. Kathryn is asking.”

He looked her in the eye, kindly, but with an ocean of sadness between them, and he said softly, “I don’t think I can speak to Kathryn right now. But please understand I’ll always be here for my Captain.” He continued to the back of the shuttle and closed the rear compartment door.

As Kathryn watched him leave, it was hard to breathe, hard to think. A physical pain swelled in her chest. Every instinct she had screamed at her to follow him, demand he listen to her, talk to her, let her explain. But how could she? He’d looked so resolute and calm, as if he’d found a measure of peace in his decision. All these years he had respected her boundaries, when she knew very well it wasn't what he wanted. How could she not respect his wishes now?

Kathryn put her head in her hands, closed her eyes against the sting of tears she was determined not to shed. So this was how things would be between them. She had truly broken their friendship, and it hit her, sharp and clear, sitting alone in the shuttle’s cabin: she had let something precious and rare slip through her fingers.


	3. Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay are stranded in a damaged shuttle. They get a little time to talk, but not in the way Kathryn hopes, and pretty quickly things go from bad to worse...

Kathryn’s head shot upwards in an instinctive jerk. Something was wrong. They'd lost forward momentum abruptly. The warp engines were straining, and then seconds later, screaming. The shuttle lurched left. The sound of rending metal filled the air. White light cracked through the cabin. Kathryn’s ribs slammed into the control panel as the inertial dampers failed, and then she was flung sharply backwards to the floor. Her head struck the deck.

A wave of pain and sickness overtook her, stars forming and reforming. She fought the urge to vomit. The shuttle’s walls seemed to rend and twist, and at first Kathryn thought it was a visual disturbance, perhaps concussion. But she quickly realised that wasn't the case. Groaning, she dragged herself back to the helm.

They were in the middle of a pulsing subspace distortion, and the twisting of the hull was all too real. 

She dragged herself to her feet. The instrument panels were fried. No power to the engines or transporters, barely enough power to keep life support functional. No comms. She tried to send a distress signal, but nothing she did worked. 

From behind her, Chakotay hammered on the door separating the shuttle’s two compartments. “Captain?”

She went to the door, but the opening swish she expected never came. She lay a hand flat on the cool metal. “I'm all right. Can you get the door open from that side?”

“No, it's twisted in its frame. Nothing's working back here. The engines must be offline.  Do we have comms?”

“No. Just life support. Barley. We’ve got enough oxygen for five hours.”

She heard him swear from behind the door. Then he asked, “Are you hurt?”

“It's not too bad,” she said. “Just a cracked a rib. How about you?” Even as she spoke she felt the sharp pain in her chest with every breath, and her throbbing head showed no signs of letting up.

“I'm fine,” Chakotay said.

Kathryn wondered if he was lying too. “Can you get the engines back online?”

“I can't even access the engine compartment. The hull is so twisted its jammed up all the doors. I can try to access the main computer from here, though. That might get us comms.” There was a long, low creak as the shuttle shifted. Chakotay's voice dropped. “I don't like the sound of that.” 

“Damn it. I’ll try routing any spare power to structural integrity.” Kathryn hurried back to the helm.

Outside the shuttle, space continued to flare and pulse with nausea-inducing white light. Kathryn kept her eyes firmly on the helm, for to look up sent blinding shocks across her already tender head. Where were they? Trapped inside some unfamiliar phenomenon that was putting terrible strain on the shuttle’s fuselage. 

She spent twenty frustrating minutes trying to wrangle the systems back under control, to no avail. She slammed her palm into the console, and cursed.

She stood. At least the pulsing beyond the view screen had stopped. That was something. The blackness of space stretched before her, empty and starless, offering no clue to their location. Perhaps Chakotay was having more luck. 

Kathryn returned to the inner door. “Chakotay?”

“The main computer is looping through some pretty odd-looking recursive subroutines every six point three minutes. I don't recognise any of it as Starfleet. I can't interrupt it or shut it down. How did you fare?”

“No better than you. The helm’s dead. I can’t even establish where we are, let alone locate  _ Voyager _ . Can we do anything about this door? You have the weapons locker back there.”

“I’ve already checked the phasers. They’re completely drained. Must be the same thing that's killed main power. But there’s a wrench I might be able to use to force the door open.”

Kathryn heard a clunk and grind, and then the sound of Chakotay straining. After that, he cursed as something metal clattered to the floor. The door didn't budge. “No luck?”

“It's useless.” 

There was silence for a while. 

“I'm afraid I got the ration packs and water.” Kathryn finally said, after mentally totting up what was located where.   

“I got the medikit, which I suspect you need more than I do.”

“You also got the bathroom, which hardly seems fair.”

“Sorry about that.”

From the corner of her eye, Kathryn noticed the pulsing start up again beyond the view screen, and the shuttle’s hull began to creak and groan.

“Uh oh,” Chakotay said, as the creaking got louder. “I'll keep working on that code in the main computer.”

“Good idea. I'm going to track the distortions outside. They might be following some kind of pattern.”

After another forty minutes of fruitless efforts, Kathryn banged on the door again, but was immediately sorry when a shooting pain cracked through her ribs. She sucked in a sharp breath, then said through gritted teeth, “Chakotay? Any progress?”

“None. You?”

“Well, you said the alien code in the computer was cycling every six point three minutes. So is the distortion in space around the shuttle.”

“That must mean something.”

“Agreed,” she said, rubbing her ribs. “I just can't figure out what.”

“There's a class two probe back here. It's power module is drained, and the regular launch mechanism is inoperable. But I’ve encoded a distress signal into the hard drive and I can launch it via the external door back here. Assuming  _ Voyager _ adopts a standard search configuration they’ll detect it with long range scans. Eventually.”

“These compartments are sealed, so we’d only lose oxygen from your side,” Kathryn mused. “You'll have to get into an EV suit and vent the aft compartment. Then close the outer doors manually, which would be tricky.”

“But doable. Where would that leave us with oxygen?”

Kathryn walked carefully to the helm and ran some quick calculations on the life support system, before moving back to the doors, still holding her side. “It would deplete our oxygen reserves. We’d be left with a two hours at best.”

“It's a gamble, then.”

“So is doing nothing. We should do it between these subspace distortions, to minimise pressure differential on the hull. Once a distortion phase ends, you’ll have a little over six minutes to launch the probe and re-seal the cabin. Think you can do it?”

“Aye, Captain. I'll get into an EV suit right now.”

Kathryn flinched at the formality in his tone, which hurt almost as much as her chest. She hadn't meant that to sound like an order, and she was pretty sure he knew it.

After ten minutes he returned to the door. “Captain?”

“I’m here.”

“I’ve secured the cabin best I can.”

“Good.” Anything loose would be a hazard. Kathryn glanced at the timer on the tricorder she had been using to track the distortion cycle. The power on the device wouldn’t last much longer. “Be ready in thirty seconds.”

For long moments he didn't reply. Perhaps he hadn't heard. Perhaps he was deliberately ignoring her. Then at last he spoke. 

His voice was crisp. “Understood.”

Kathryn let out her breath. Did he? How could he understand what it cost her every day to wrestle her affection for him under control? To fight against falling for him so hard she might never recover?

“Chakotay,” she called, with her palm against the door. “Be careful.”

“I will,” he said, his voice a little softer. Then she heard his visor click closed, and his grav boots clump across the deck toward the external door. Seconds later her ears were filled with the roar of venting air, and the shuttle trembled. Something crashed against metal. Her heart leapt, and she forced herself not to call out to him. He needed to concentrate. 

If only she could see! She hated being so helpless. More crashing. She held her breath. The noise abruptly quieted. The door must be closed. But was he safe?

“Chakotay!” 

“It’s done, Captain.”

“Are you all right? There was a lot of crashing about back there.”

“One of the lockers must be damaged. It flew open. We lost some tools. But the probe is away.”

“Good work.”

While he removed his EV suit and tidied the cabin, Kathryn checked their status. The life support system had compensated for the lost air in the rear cabin, but launching the probe had seriously drained their reserves. Two hours and three minutes left. After that, oxygen, heat, and also structural integrity would fail rapidly. She slammed her fist into the console in sheer frustration at the stupidity of it all. 

She limped back to the door and broke the bad news to Chakotay. 

She could picture him gravely nodding behind the door, as he said, “Tuvok will find us. You know what Harry’s like with search patterns. Nothing gets past him.”

She nodded. “I suppose he’s had enough practice over the years. We’re always looking for something.”

“Yes we are,” Chakotay said, with an almost wistful tone. 

At least he sounded a little less formal now, and Kathryn couldn’t be entirely sure he was talking about their shipboard searches for missing crew, or dilithium or new sources of food, or of a more personal kind of searching.

“That flying debris didn’t hit you, did it?”

“Only a glancing blow. I’ll live.”

She placed her hand on the door, instinctively reaching out for him, her customary hand on his chest or shoulder blocked by inches of metal. “I wish I could…” She stopped herself before ‘touch you’ slipped off her tongue. How often did she fall back on touches? Too often, perhaps, She’d have to use words, and that wasn’t her strong point when it came to connecting with him.  “See you,” she added quickly. “I wish I could see you.” She broke into a fit of coughing, as a lancing pain pierced her side.

“ _ I  _ wish I could scan you with this medical tricorder. I think you’re more badly hurt than you’ve let on.”

“Really, Chakotay, I’m fine—”

“Damn it Kathryn, stop lying to me,” he snapped, banging his fist, or hand, against the door.

She felt like his words slapped her, and the worst of it was she deserved it. “Chakotay. I’m sorry. You’re right. I think I’ve damaged my lung. It’s quite painful.” Kathryn sat on the floor, resting her head back against the metal door. “Funny thing is I brought you along because I hoped we’d get the chance to talk. Didn’t think it would be through a door, though.”

“Things so rarely end up in the way we expect, or hope for.”

Kathryn sighed. Perhaps it was time she started being more honest with him, and herself. She could start with the apology she so clearly owed him. “Chakotay. I should never have relieved you of duty. I went too far.”

He was silent for a few moments. “You think relieving me of duty went too far? What about Lessing?”

“Noah Lessing was bluffing.”

“He  _ wasn’t _ . There was no way he was going to hand Ransom over to you.”

“Rubbish.”

“I could see it in his eye,” he insisted.

“What are you talking about?”

“I recognised the look. Lessing would have died before he gave his Captain up,” his voice rose, his anger clearly still close to the surface.

Kathryn’s voice almost failed her. “I don’t think so,” she whispered, although she was less sure every moment, and she brought her hand to her chest. “How do you know—”

“God damn it Kathryn! Basic empathy. Put yourself in his shoes.”

“Is that what you did?” she said weakly.

“I’d have died rather than give  _ you _ up. That’s how I understood he’d never tell you what you wanted to know.”

Kathryn coughed, and covered her mouth with her hands, the full force of what she’d almost done hitting her for the first time. 

“I couldn't let you kill him,” Chakotay said, more softly now. “For his sake and yours.”

“Thank god you didn’t.” Kathryn dissolved into a violent coughing fit, and when she brought her hand away, it was spotted with blood.

“Kathryn?” his voice was full of concern.

She opened her mouth, and then swallowed the lie she had been about to tell. He deserved better. “I think my lung is punctured.” Kathryn shifted her weight to the left to relieve the pain in her side, before she went on. “I was so angry with Ransom. For betraying everything a Starfleet Captain is supposed to stand for, when I have to fight so hard to hold onto it.”

“It isn’t easy to hang onto our principles under pressure. Sometimes we crack.”

Kathryn blinked back tears, glad now that he couldn't see her. “Is that what you think? That I’m broken?”

“No, of course not.” He paused, and then his voice seemed to hold a smile. “Dented, a little, maybe. Who wouldn’t be, out here?”

“Chakotay, you’re being much kinder than I deserve.”

She could almost hear him sigh. “Old habits, I guess.”

The blinding light beyond the shuttle view screen flared again, and this time the creaking and groaning of the hull lasted a full minute.

“Hell,” Kathryn muttered. She dragged herself to her feet. “How do the bulkheads look through there?”

“All right, I think.”

At that moment the whole shuttle lurched, sending Kathryn flailing into the helm. She cried out, pain searing through her ribs. As the movement settled, she noticed a short hairline crack in the view screen, and groaned. Warning lights flashed on the helm.

“Kathryn! Are you all right?”

“Yes, but the  _ Tereshkova’s  _ not doing so well. There’s a stress fracture in the forward screen. I’m not sure how much more of this it will take.”

“Are you losing oxygen?” 

Kathryn checked the status on the helm. “Not yet, but…”

Another groan twisted through the shuttle, and Kathryn knew before she saw the readings that the screen had a micro-fracture. She swore quietly.

“Captain? What’s your status?” Chakotay demanded. 

She straightened her back. “I’ll be out of oxygen in ten minutes.”

“The hell you will. I’ll go out and fix the breach, and then stay in the EV suit until  _ Voyager _ arrives.”

“No! If it’s pulling the _Tereshkova_ apart, think what it will do to you. There’s no point us both risking—”

“Don’t argue with me on this, Captain.”

“Commander…” she warned.

“And don’t try pulling rank on me either,” he snapped. “Do you expect me to sit here and let you die?”

“I expect you to follow my orders.” Kathryn wheezed, stumbling back to the door. “It’s too dangerous. You’d barely have time to get there and back before the distortion cycled around again.”

“Kathryn,” Chakotay’s voice was soft and seemed close to the door. She pressed her hand to the metal, and imagined him doing the same on the other side. 

“I wasn’t joking when I said I’d die for you,” he said in a voice soft as silk.

“Chakotay,” she choked out, but he didn’t answer. 

She slumped to the cabin’s floor again, coughing, her head spinning with pain. Time folded, twisted, dilated, faded. She jerked awake as the exterior door opened, and again the rear cabin vented. The world seemed heavy, bloated. Her vision blurred, and became dark. 

Then she saw him, like an angel in the darkness, his dear face clear beyond the view screen, illuminated by the interior light in his helmet. She dragged herself to her feet, stumbling to the helm, fighting to focus on him.

He was using an expanding aluminium polymer to seal the crack.

She clutched her chest. How long did he have before the next flare? She grabbed the tricoder with shaking hands. 

Sixty seconds. 

He had to start back, or he’d never make it in time! The distortion would tear him apart.

Panic hit her. “Go back!” she motioned. He couldn't hear her, but he must have known by the frantic signalling what she meant. 

He shook his head, and continued to work. Her heart plunged, her breathing laboured. He’d never make it back inside, even if he stopped working right now. She watched him, mesmerised. He was beautiful, in every way. How had she not known it before? 

He finished the job and looked up.

Twelve seconds.

She choked, felt bile in her throat, and blood on her lips. She reached out, wincing with the stab in her ribs, but not caring. She flattened her palm on the screen. He placed his own hand against hers, his eyes rich and soft, his full lips parted, making the shape of her name. 

Five seconds. 

His eyes locked with hers. 

She saw no fear in his dark eyes, only love. 

Everything she’d ever wanted to tell him burned in her eyes.  _ I’m sorry never told you how much I wanted you. I’m sorry I got lost behind protocols and duty. I’m sorry. I’m sorry...   _

Her head pounded, her heart as broken as her ribs. Where the hell was  _ Voyager _ ? It couldn’t end like this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blasted this out pretty quickly. If you spot any typos or flaws, do let me know!!


	4. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay are trapped in a damaged shuttle. They are saved, but not by the people you might expect...

Kathryn saw stars where previously there had been none.

Twinkling and pulsing. The world started to spin, colours converging, splitting, reforming. She couldn’t see Chakotay anymore, just a kaleidoscope behind her eyelids. Pain in her chest spread to her her arms, and surged up into her head. 

Something moved in space. Was her vision breaking down? No. A ship’s hull flashed in front of those emerging stars. Hope surged through her.

She had to focus! Kathryn forced her eyes wide open, looking for her ship, for the salvation that would snatch them both from the jaws of death.

Another second passed before she realised that the ship rapidly approaching them wasn’t  _ Voyager _ .

White light. Blinding.  _ Everywhere _ . She flung her arm over her eyes. 

Something tugged, tugged, tugged at the shuttle. The movement was jerky and imprecise and lurching. She thought she would vomit. 

Pain.  _ Everywhere. _

The white consumed her, exploding her nerve endings, and then turned into merciful blackness.

 

**A few seconds previously...**

 

Chakotay dropped the tube of sealant he had been holding, and it drifted slowly out of sight. He didn’t watch it, instead he stared at Kathryn through the view screen. She looked pale and vulnerable, and completely beautiful, motioning desperately, telling him to return inside the shuttle. He knew it was hopeless and she must, too. In moments the distortion would tear him apart. Back in the Alpha Quadrant, he’d been prepared to die in the fight against the Cardassians, and he’d put his life on the line, willingly, many times since when Kathryn asked him. He didn’t  _ want _ to die today, but he wasn’t afraid, because she would live.

_ Voyager _ would find her.

It had to be this way: she could get their crew home without him, but he couldn’t do it without her.

She pressed her hand to the screen. He did the same.

Her lips were bloodstained. A wave of sadness that he’d never kiss those lips echoed through him like a lost cry in the darkness. How had he ever imagined that he could stop loving her?

“Kathryn,” he said softly.

White light surrounded him, and he felt himself moving, being twisted and tugged away from the  _ Tereshkova _ . It wasn’t like the tingling of  _ Voyager’s _ transporter… more like a primitive tractor beam had gotten hold of him and was yanking him remorselessly into the light. 

He lost sight of Kathryn. A surge of desperation hit him. He needed her safe. That was the last thought he could form before he was overwhelmed by the stuttering light.

#

Kathryn woke in dim light, her pain only slightly diminished. “Chakotay?” she muttered. Her voice was hoarse, her throat brittle and sore. 

A reptilian hand rested on her shoulder. “Don’t try to move. We’re treating your injuries.”

“Please. There was someone with me. Is he here?”

“I do not know. You must remain still.”

She took a moment to get her bearings. She was on a bed, seemingly inside some kind of basic medical facility, and judging by the gentle thrum, on a ship travelling at warp. The figure standing next to her, a short-horned female with a green hue to her scaly skin, scanned her with some kind of medical device.

Kathryn grabbed the medic's clawed hand. "Please, could you find out about my friend for me? He was repairing our shuttle." Someone had saved her. She had to believe they managed to save Chakotay, too. He  _ couldn't  _ be gone.

"There are others aboard. Your friend may be among them,” the medic said, shrugging. She pressed Kathryn back to the bed. “Now, stop moving and allow me to treat you."

A stabbing pain accompanied every laboured breath, and her head was spinning, but still she wanted to get up. She flinched as a cold sensation pressed against her neck and she struggled to sit up again despite the pain in her side. But her body was too heavy, her limbs unresponsive to her orders. Her vision blurred, sounds faded, and the world dimmed, and the pain, mercifully, receded.

She dreamed a wild, jolting vision of  _ Voyager _ . Her ship was searching for them. Tuvok in command. Harry at his station, looking serious. In the galley Neelix was cooking Talaxian tomatoes, and serving them in one of the bowls Chakotay had carved from redwood, years ago on New Earth. 

_ Chakotay. _

In her dreams he was building her a boat to sail on the River George, but held a rose in his hand instead of a hammer. Then they were dancing. They had never once danced together, but in this beautiful fantasy he swept her off her feet, in a ballroom overlooking a cityscape filled with spires and gondolas, looking happier than she'd seen him in months. She  _ felt _ happier than she had in forever as her heels clicked across the dance floor.

Kathryn jerked awake. She was alone, in a strange medical facility, in pain and sweating. The events of the last few hours flooded back.

"Chakotay?" She mumbled, raising her head from the pillow, but was met with silence. She winced and lay back down, the image of his smiling face still hauntingly fresh in her mind. She could almost feel the echo of his hands at her waist from when they had been dancing. Perhaps it was the after effects of her treatment loosening her resolve, but for once she let her mind drift and tumble into  _ what ifs  _ and  _ if onlys _ . 

If she was honest, and right now she didn't have the mental strength to deny it to herself, she had thought she was falling in love with Chakotay on New Earth. Those weeks were gloriously responsibility-free and that bubbling, fizzing attraction that had existed between them since the start finally found freedom to grow. She had been close to giving in to her feelings, and she guessed he knew it, although he waited patiently and never pressed. At times, afterwards back on  _ Voyager _ , she almost wished he had pushed things. But where would that have left them? It had been hard enough re-adjusting into their command roles and getting back on the path to the Alpha Quadrant: shelving new-found intimacy would have made that transition so much harder.

Once the dream of returning to Mark had been shattered, it would have made perfect sense for her to turn to Chakotay. He was her closest peer, an undeniably attractive man. He was smart, kind and loyal too. There had seemed to be plenty of time. And yet… the years had been relentlessly cruel. Too many wedges between them, most of them driven by her. In the end it had seemed simpler to crush her ebullient feelings and just focus on the job. She’d thought he’d done the same. That they were friends, nothing more, and this time she thought she had broken even that. 

Yet, Chakotay had left the safety of the shuttle, knowing he probably wouldn't make it back, in order to save her life. Even after everything she'd done the past week he was still prepared to die for her. The knowledge left a hollow ache in her chest.

He was her closest confidant. Her best friend. He could be gone forever, and she’d never had the chance to tell him anything. 

No, scratch that. 

She’d  _ squandere _ d years when she could have told him anything, shared so much more of herself, if she’d chosen to. The thought pumped her up, and her frustration at herself gave her the boost she needed. She was nowhere near ready to give up on finding him. As soon as she could walk she would get out of this damn sickbay and demand answers.

#

No one would give her a straight answer about anything, it was as frustrating as hell, and the worst of it was she still had no clue if Chakotay was alive or dead. Over the next day, it became clear she wasn't free to leave, even if she had been capable. Her uniform and communicator were gone, although the strangers did provide her with medical care, clothes, food and water. Her recovery was slow by Federation medical standards, because, she supposed, the treatment to repair her damaged lung and broken ribs was less advanced, and definitely more painful, than she was used to. She spent most of the day alone, unable to move without blackout level pain, staring at the ceiling. She resolved never to complain about  _ Voyager’s  _ doctor again.

On the second day she forced herself out of bed unaided, and limped to the wash facilities. She splashed a shock of cold water at her face. Staring at the mirror through bloodshot eyes, she forced herself to stay calm. She had to stay in control, but it wasn't easy when her instinct was to raise hell. No. The captain was never very far from the surface, and she needed her resolve today.

She surveyed the room carefully. No windows or doors, bar the locked one at the front of the facility. No vents or shafts to crawl through. No other patients, either. She really was alone bar the visits from her physician and the silent orderlies bringing food. There was just no way out of the room with her current lack of equipment and state of health. The medic ordered her back to bed, and she grudgingly complied.

On the third day she paced the medical area like a caged animal, clinging desperately to her resolve to stay calm. 

When the woman she thought of as ‘her medic’ returned, the reptilian took one look at her and said, “If you’re not going to take my advice and rest, then you can clear out of my facility.”

“ _ Good _ ,” Kathryn muttered. She’d had enough of their hospitality, if you could call it that.

The medic moved to the wall and pressed an intercom, and spoke abruptly in a tongue Kathryn didn’t recognise.

Two members of the same species quickly arrived, weapons at their hips. They didn’t lay hands on her or draw the weapons, they just motioned for her to walk between them.

“Am I a prisoner?”

“They can’t understand you,” the medic said. “Only myself and the captain have a translator implant to communicate with aliens.”

“I need to speak with the captain, then.”

The medic snorted. “Take my advice and don’t cause any trouble.” 

The guards motioned impatiently for her to move, and Kathryn had no choice but to comply.

As she walked along the corridor, she tried to get a sense of the ship. It was large, but not sleek or streamlined like  _ Voyager _ . Probably built for hauling cargo, and some years ago at that.

The long stretches of corridor ended, opening into a larger hangar deck. The guards motioned her through into an open area was stacked with cargo boxes and among them were about twelve individuals of several races she didn't recognise, all looking as cross and disgruntled as she felt. 

She paused on the threshold, her eyes fixed on a figure in the distance, her feet frozen, her heart stuttering. One of the guards gave her back an unceremonious shove through the doors.

Crouched by a small cat-like humanoid at the far end of the hangar, with his back mostly to her, in the same khaki fatigues she'd been supplied with, was a figure she'd know anywhere.

"Chakotay!" Her feet flew towards him in a stumbling run, much faster than was wise with her injury, but she didn't care, because he was here, alive.

He turned, and his face cracked a storm of emotion. "Kathryn!" He stood up and strode towards her. 

In seconds she was in his arms. 

"Thank God," she breathed. "I thought I'd lost you." She held him tighter than she'd held anyone in years, despite the pain of her ribs as he crushed her to his chest.

His breath was hot on her neck, and it felt good. So good. She didn't want to let him go; every fibre of her being wanted him closer. He'd never once held her this way and sheer physical pleasure at the sweet sensations surged through her.  _ Alive _ . He was alive, and so was she. She  desperately wanted to hang onto the feeling of life sparking through her veins. She'd been dead inside for way too long.

His breath caught. "No one would tell me anything. Not if you were here, or where we are. Oh god, Kathryn, it's good to see you." 

She moved back a little, just enough to see his face, almost nervous of what he might see revealed in hers. "You too, " she managed to croak. For a moment, it was too hard to say any more, and she certainly couldn't find the words to express the turbulent emotions raging in her chest. "Chakotay…" she choked out. "I…"

He hushed her, whispering, "You don't have to say anything."  They stood in the hangar deck, locked in an embrace for what felt like forever, his body so warm and solid against hers. Inevitably, though, they had to part. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, as he looked into her face with concern. 

She knew her skin was sallow. “They’ve treated my broken ribs and collapsed lung, but let’s just say they don’t have our level of expertise. You?”

“They got me aboard just before I blacked out. They said our shuttle was destroyed. They won’t let me talk to the captain, or anyone in authority.” He stayed close to her, as if he was afraid she would blow away like smoke the moment his back was turned. She was glad of his proximity, and held his arm as she surveyed the deck and the other occupants of the, well, it wasn’t a brig or a cell, but they clearly had no option to leave, so  _ prison _ seemed to fit. 

The cat-like figure she’d seen earlier got to her feet, staring warily at Kathryn.

"Who's your friend?"

"This is Ka-Gwyn," Chakotay told her. "We haven't managed to communicate very clearly. She was weak and exhausted when she arrived, a few hours after me. One of the less agreeable residents here took a fancy to her jacket.” His tone darkened. “Let's just say I don't like bullies. Ka-Gwyn and I have been watching each other’s backs ever since."

“What about these others?” Kathryn nodded towards the clusters of men and women scattered among the cargo containers. None were of the same race as their captors, but most were humanoid.  

“They seem unwilling even to try to communicate, with me or with each other.”

Kathryn sighed. “I don’t know if I have enough energy or clout to build a coalition right now. But Voyager will be searching for us. They should find the remains of the shuttle. Perhaps they’ll be able to track this vessel’s warp signature.” She turned back to Chakotay. "If these people who found us mean us harm, why save our lives and treat my injuries?”

“If they're friendly they sure have a strange way of treating guests."

"Agreed." Kathryn rubbed her side as pain pulled at her ribs. 

Chakotay took her arm. "You look a little pale. Maybe you should sit down."

Kathryn held back a snort, but lifted a hand. "You saved my life, so I'm hardly in a position to disagree with your judgement," she conceded. "Even if you disobeyed my orders."

"I told you I'd always be there for my captain. I wouldn't be much of a first officer if I let my CO die when I had the means to save her, now would I?" he said, helping her to sit down with her back to a bulkhead.

“I’m grateful, Chakotay,” she said softly, as he crouched in front of her. “But had you thought about what it would mean to me to watch  _ you _ die?”

His eyes burned into hers. Broken words formed on his lips and then faded. She reached for his hands. “Kathryn, please don’t,” he finally whispered. He straightened up and took a step back. “I’ll watch over you, Captain,” he said. “Get some rest.”

Kathryn looked up at him, but he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, meet her eyes. Even through the haze of her exhaustion and pain, she understood he didn’t trust her enough to let his emotional guard down. But the hug they had shared was no lie, and the memory of it gave her hope. 

She didn't for one moment doubt his loyalty to his captain.  Now Kathryn had to win back her place in his heart.


	5. Le Tretz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay find themselves in the middle of a deadly game.

Kathryn woke with a sharp pain in her side. If she didn’t know better, she’d say one of her ribs was sticking directly into her heart. But uncomfortable as it felt, if that were  _ actually _ true it would surely feel much worse. 

Chakotay stood nearby, talking with Ka-Gwyn, in the language of gestures they had obviously devised over the past three days. He did have a flair for communication. She’d disparaged his efforts at communicating with the multiphasic aliens shamefully. How many other small acts of dismissal and rejection had she hurt him with over the years, all in the name of maintaining the command structure? Right now, her actions seemed ill judged, short-sighted, and cruel. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to keep his distance.  

Ka-Gwyn nudged Chakotay, directing his attention to Kathryn. 

He walked over to crouch by her side. “How are you feeling?”

“Let’s just say I miss our EMH more than thought I ever would. Have you learned anything from your friend?"

"Not much. I think we're being taken to a place called Le Tretz. I'm not clear what's going to happen when we get there, but I don't think it's anything good."

The others, as Kathryn had started to think of them, tended to sit alone, watching or prowling around the cargo bay. One or two of them looked bewildered, and she wondered if they, like she and Chakotay, had little clue about what was going on.

Chakotay sat silently beside her as she observed the cargo bay's occupants. Without glancing at her, he followed the lines of her eyes, and began to speak. "The tall guy with the blue skin, I've christened Hunter. He's a loner, strong, aggressive and has a short fuse. He was the one who tried to steal Ka-Gwyn's jacket. He’s started several fights already, but the guards must be watching, as they come in and break them up.”

Kathryn nodded. “So they want us all in one piece for whatever’s waiting at this Le Tretz.”

“I think that woman,” he nodded at a broad shouldered woman pacing the bay, “is Hirogen, although we never met any females of that race, so it’s hard to be sure. We’re a long way past Hirogen space.”

“What about those two?” Kathryn asked, nodding towards a humanoid couple huddled by a bulkhead. They had pale skin, with little body hair, and wore simple green robes.

“They’ve tried to keep a low profile. I think they’re pretty scared. Hunter took their food from them.”

Kathryn surveyed the room, trying to get a feel of the place. “If the guards come in, how many? What’s their operational style?”

“Usually four, all armed. They seal the doors. Two deal with the altercation, and two watch the rest of us. They seem pretty efficient.”

“Hmmm. How is food delivered?” 

“Plates arrive in that area.” He pointed to a low platform. “Some kind of transporter technology. I presume that’s how they brought me aboard.”

“So, meal times don’t provide opportunities for escape. Perhaps we can coordinate a disruption large enough to overwhelm the guards, steal their weapons, and—” Kathryn noted Chakotay’s smile and paused. “Something amusing you?”

“You never stop thinking like a captain, do you?”

She flinched. “Chakotay—”

He squeezed her arm. “It’s a  _ good _ thing. It keeps us alive, and it’s what we need right now.” 

As Chakotay spoke, a squad of eight armed guards filed into the room. They started prodding people to their feet, and making them line up near the door. Hunter snarled his disapproval, baring pointed teeth. The Hirogen female moved silently into line. 

Ka-Gwyn motioned urgently to Chakotay.  _ “Fah hirrit Le Tretz.”  _

Chakotay stood. 

As Kathryn struggled to get up, a dull ache pulled at her side. Chakotay offered his hand, and she took it, pulling herself to her feet. “Too late for an orchestrated distraction,” she muttered. 

His face was was grim. “I think we’re about to find out what’s at Le Tretz.”

They were all herded onto a transport docked with the ship. Kathryn could see they were in deep space, and didn’t recognise any of the symbols she saw on the new vessel. Her request to speak to someone in authority was met with a sharp nudge in the back with the butt of a weapon. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to her their captors were arguing with the staff on the new vessel, who appeared to be of the same horned, reptilian race. The head guard held a small portable device, a little like a tricorder. He and one of the transport crew were pointing at the screen and gesticulating.

“Can you make any sense of that?” she whispered to Chakotay.

“If I had to guess,I’d say they’re arguing over payment.”

“We’re being  _ sold? _ ”

“Looks that way.”

Kathryn shook her head, as much in disgust at the principle as fear over their fate. What the hell was going on? Were they being sold for slave labour? The other possibility, sexual slavery, was too horrible to contemplate, so she refused to let her mind contemplate that for too long.

They were cajoled into the back of the transport. At least it had seats, benches around the outside of the bulkheads, but no windows. Armed guards took positions by the doors, which were quickly sealed. Kathryn felt the hum of the engines, and the steady change in sensations as the craft separated from the umbilical they’d walked through. A cacophony of voices in unfamiliar languages rose in alarm around her. Ka-Gwyn took a seat next to Chakotay, and remained silent.

A white coated female flanked by a guard, began circulating among the prisoners, pressing a small device behind each person’s ear. One of the green robed, pale skinned prisoners backed away in alarm, but the guard gripped his arm brutally hard, and the medic proceeded regardless.

Kathryn became aware of a shift in the room; the prisoners began staring at one another. 

Then the medic was in front of her with the device hovering threateningly in hand. 

“What are you doing?” Kathryn demanded. 

“Don’t struggle, Captain,” Chakotay hissed. 

It was good advice, and she forced herself to heed it, even though every instinct in her body told her  _ fight _ . The device pressed against her mastoid bone right behind her ear, and sent a jolt of pain through her skull. Chakotay was subjected to the same treatment. They exchanged glances, both rubbing the side of their heads.

The hubbub of noise in the transport shifted. Almost instantly, the mix of alien voices transformed into recognisable sounds.

Chakotay turned to Ka-Gwyn, who said, "Friend, Cha-ko-tay, the Spiroteph implanted us with translator chips. Now we can speak." She was lithe, like a cat, with sandy-coloured fur over her skin, and bright yellow eyes. Her hands were clawed, and her ears were pricked forward and alert.

"Well that's an improvement," he said, smiling. He glanced in Kathryn's direction. "This is Capt—" 

Kathryn moved closer, interjecting, "I'm Kathryn." Her rank wouldn't help here, and besides, she wanted to just be Kathryn for a while. She smiled warmly at Ka-Gwyn. "Are you able to tell us anything about what's going on?"

"Ah. You have not heard of Le Tretz?"

"Is that where they're taking us?"

Ka-Gwyn shook her feline head. "Not  _ where _ . The location changes each time. Le Tretz means "the chase". It's the deadliest game in the sector.” She raised her hand, baring sharp, powerful claws, and indicated the scattered occupants of their transport. “We're all runners."

" _W_ _ e’re what _ ?"

At that moment, the lead guard banged the butt of his rifle on the deck three times. The uneasy hubbub in the room quieted, and all eyes turned his way. “Runners of Le Tretz. This you need to know: 

“Make what allegiances you will, for as long as you will, but understand that when you eliminate another runner, their supplies for the next day become yours.” The guard’s teeth bared in a sickening smile. “Go only forwards. Turn back and you will be eliminated.” With a claw raised in front of him, the guard turned about the room. “There can be only one victor. All runners in the arena after the champion crosses the line will be eliminated. Good hunting.” He turned and left without another word.

A sinking feeling gripped Kathryn’s gut. She turned to Ka-Gwyn. “I’m almost afraid to ask what happens to a runner when they’re eliminated.” 

“ _ Death _ ,” Ka-Gwyn said sourly. "For the entertainment of the masses, and the enrichment of the plutocracy in this forsaken sector, there is one winner, and one alone. The rest of us die."

Kathryn swore quietly under her breath, and glanced at Chakotay, before she added. “We’d appreciate anything else you can tell us.” 

“There will be three zones to traverse to reach the finish line. They are usually different environments, but this changes each time, so I do not know what we will face. There will be weapons and supplies along the route, if we can find them. There will also be traps and hazards. Autobots, and often wild animals, but that changes with each game.”

“And this is  _ entertainment _ ?” Kathryn said incredulously.

Ka-Gwyn shifted, looking around like she was about to pounce. “I confess, it feels a lot less entertaining from this side of the camera.” 

Kathryn shook her head. "Our people will come."

Ka-Gwyn laughed. "Do you know how many runners say that?  _ ‘I have people. Family. Friends. They won’t abandon me.’ _ How many do you think have been rescued? Not a single one."

“That might be true. But we have a powerful ship, and a clever, brave crew who won’t give up. They have gotten us out of situations that seemed hopeless before.” Memories of New Earth came unbidden into Kathryn’s consciousness. The crew had come back for them, against the odd. They wouldn’t give up.

Kathryn shot a glance at Chakotay,  wanting so much to touch him, but forcing her hand to remain on her lap. “How were you captured?” she asked Ka-Gwyn, to jolt herself out of that uncomfortable feeling.

“I was with my family, celebrating my youngest sister’s day of majority. Someone at the gathering must have drugged me, because next thing I know I woke alone in a strange ship. No food for three days, and then I'm transferred to the Shispian vessel. That's when I knew I'd end up in the game. The Shispian’s are known for snatching runners. I always thought those stupid enough to let themselves be captured and sold into Le Tretz were fools. Turns out  _ I _ am the fool."

"Doesn't sound like you could have avoided it any more than we could," Chakotay said kindly. 

"We're better off than we would have been," Kathryn added. "Our shuttle was badly damaged. At least this way we're both alive." She sought Chakotay's eyes, but he looked away, as if discomforted.

“We should get some rest while we can,” Ka-Gwyn said, taking a seat on the bench. “Faith knows we’ll need it.”

**Le Tretz**

The transport set down to spew its unwilling passengers into a clearing alongside a wooded area. Chakotay nudged Kathryn awake. He was worried about her. She was obviously weaker and in more pain than she let on. It had only been a few minutes into the journey when, hand clutched to her side, she drifted off to sleep again.  

Ka-Gwyn leapt to her feet, and paused on the gangplank. “We must go. Take your friend and head to the trees.”

Chakotay almost dragged a bleary Kathryn along behind him for a few paces before she wakened fully. “We’re in Le Tretz, I take it?”

“It would seem so.”

They followed Ka-Gwyn closely. She glanced at him over her shoulder. A shriek from across the clearing that turned Chakotay's blood cold. The tall blue man, who he had dubbed Hunter, had his huge hands around the neck of one of the smaller runners. The next moment Hunter roared in satisfaction, and the first runner to die fell to the ground.

Ka-Gwyn yanked Chakotay’s arm. “We can not help. Run.” She began to sprint, and she didn’t she stop until they were deep into the forest. Then she turned abruptly. “Why do you follow me? You seek to kill me so soon?”

“Of course not,” he said.

Kathryn added, “We have to work together to stay alive until our crew figures out where we are.”

“Your crew,” Ka-Gwyn snorted. “They’ll never find us. Maybe they will get lucky and arrive in time to take your bodies home.”

Kathryn took a step towards the feline woman. “Ka-Gwyn, we won’t harm you, or anyone else if we can help it. But we certainly have no intention of dying here. If we work together, we have a chance. Maybe there are others who will join us, too.”

Ka-Gwyn took a few paces, then paused, and seemed to consider her options for a moment. Then she said, “We won’t be able to leave this zone today. We must search for food, and weapons and equipment. There will be traps, so be cautious.”   

Chakotay put his head on one side. “Kathryn Janeway, alliance builder and diplomat,” he said quietly.

“This ain't my first first contact, you know,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye as she caught his. Chakotay smiled a little at that before he caught himself and looked quikly away. He wasn’t going to get sucked into that emotional minefield again.  

 

Chakotay kept his eyes on Kathryn as they fanned out in a standard search pattern through the undergrowth. She rubbed her chest occasionally, and she was a little slow on her feet. The weather was warm for the moment, although he had no doubt the temperature would drop as the sun fell. 

“Here,” Kathryn said. She’d found something tucked in the branches of a tree. 

Chakotay gave Ka-Gwyn a boost, and the lithe cat-woman moved elegantly among the leaves to retrieve the backpack. “Careful. There’s…” The branch had been half-sorn through.

Before he could finish, the wood cracked, and Ka-Gwyn, and the bag, tumbled to the forest floor. She hissed as Chakotay offered her his hand.

“I’m fine,” she growled. 

Chakotay picked up the backpack, shaking his head. It was his fate to be surrounded by women who wouldn’t admit when they were hurt.

“In some ways it’s not unlike New Earth,” Kathryn said, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Except instead of a friendly primate there are deadly killers and traps.”

Chakotay pressed his lips together. “I won’t be able to build you a bathtub this time.” He swallowed a wave of regret at the opportunity wasted; she’d been busy working at finding a cure, when they could have been… living. Building a life in their little shelter. A home. Right now they were a thousand light years from that happier, simpler time. It was probably for the best. How much harder would it have been if they had loved each other on New Earth and then gone back to command? She would have never let a relationship continue once they returned to the ship, he was sure of that. He watched her for a long time as she sorted through the pack they’d found. Eventually she passed him two silver packs of what looked like food. 

He took one to Ka-Gwyn. 

“You joke about bathtubs, when you know we will die, here,” Ka-Gwyn said quietly, propped against a tree. 

Chakotay handed her a pack and sat beside her. “Try to stay optimistic, Ka-Gwyn.”

“Not all of us have a great star-ship full of the bright and the brave swooping down to rescue us,” she said wearily, ripping the foil open with her claws. She grimaced at the contents.

Chakotay sat down beside her. “You have people to get back to, though? People who care for you?”

“Just an ordinary family. Three brothers, two sisters. No heroes. Our mother died when the youngest was a baby. Our father raised us with the help of his parents. We were very close.” Her eyes became distant. “The only way I’ll ever see them again is if I am the victor.” She examined her long claws, and her yellow eyes shone, although Chakotay couldn’t tell if it was with fear or anger. “Unlikely as that will be.”

“Our people  _ will _ come. And when they do Captain Janeway will get everyone out of this damn arena, and then home. Depend on it.”

“You have a lot of faith in your captain.” Ka-Gwyn sounded unconvinced, as if she didn’t fully trust him. She looked up from her claws, and a sly smile spread crossed her face. “I see you watch her. I think she is your heart.”

Chakotay spluttered. “That’s not exactly how I’d put it.”

“How  _ would _ you put it, Cha-ko-tay?”

“Sometimes I wish I’d never laid eyes on her,” he muttered.

Ka-Gwyn muffled a laughed behind a paw. 

“What’s so funny?” Chakotay asked, indignant.

“You can’t take your eyes  _ off _ her. ”

Chakotay sighed and shook his head. “I’ll admit, she's given me peace, and a new, better, sense of purpose. But she's also brought me sorrow and pain.”

“Ah. I know of stories like this. My middle brother. His heart belonged with one who was not of our kind. This creates problems in the eyes of some of our people. I tell you what I told him: Follow your heart, but take your head with you.”

Chakotay laughed. “Thanks. That‘s good advice. I think. So, what did your brother do?”

“Ah. I don’t think I tell you.”

“Ah, come on. You can’t leave it there.”

Ka-Gwyn glanced at her claws. “Maybe the want of this secret will encourage you to keep me alive a little longer.”

After they had eaten the rather tasteless paste inside the packs, Chakotay returned to Kathryn, who was pouring over a map. The sun was going down, and already the air began to chill.

“How is Ka-Gwyn?” Kathryn asked.

“She doesn’t really trust us.”

“I don’t blame her.”

Chakotay sat beside her to look at the map.

“We need to find shelter for the night. There’s a few caves, but they seem too obvious. If we all have the same maps then we risk bumping into company we don’t want. Like that Hunter fellow, or the Hirogen. I think we can count on them both killing us on sight.”

“How much ground does the map cover?”

“Perhaps ten kilometers. If we leave now we might make it here before night. At least we’d be out of this drop zone and have a head start when the sun comes up.” Kathryn looked at the reddening sky, and he followed her gaze. He guessed there was maybe an hour of light left before darkness. “I think we need to make it there,” she pointed at a red ring on the map, “by nightfall tomorrow.”

“Any weapons in that pack?”

“Not unless you count this,” Kathryn said, holding up a small metal tube.

“What does it do?”

“No idea. Perhaps Ka-Gwyn knows. We’ll ask her as we walk.”

She stood up, and began to haul the back over her shoulders. Chakotay sighed. “Kathryn, you’re hurt. Please let me carry that.”

He finally looked her in the eye, and what he saw there almost broke his heart. For a moment she looked vulnerable, and blinked, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. 

She bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said, in a hoarse whisper, and passed him the pack.

“No problem.” Even in his own ears, the words sounded hollow. Emotions he didn’t want pricked and bubbled in his chest. Her eyes seemed like the sea after a storm. So much had passed between them, good and bad, joy and pain. So much to loose. So much to fight for, it he had the strength and courage to open his heart to her again. The trouble was, he really didn’t know if he could. How many times must he lay himself bare for her, only to have her draw back? But they couldn't carry on like this.

He turned away, to hide is racing heart, and the flush he was sure coloured his cheeks. One of these days, quite soon, they really were going to have to sit down and talk all this through.


	6. A Long Way From Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay find out more unsettling information about the game they find themselves in. And Kathryn discovers Chakotay is a long way from forgiving her.

As dusk began to fall, Kathryn, Chakotay and Ka-Gwyn paced through jungle, determined to put as much distance as possible between them and the drop zone. Kathryn felt the pull at her ribs, the now familiar ache just over her heart that reminded her of her partially healed injury.

"Do you know what this is?" Kathryn asked Ka-Gwyn breathlessly, handing her the cylinder she’d found in the supply pack.

"Comms stick. There are micro-bot’s all around us, filming and transmitting pictures. With that,” she tapped the stick with a claw, “we should be able to tap into the video feed."

"Video feed? You mean all this is being  _ broadcast _ ?" Kathryn couldn’t hide her disbelief. 

"I'm afraid so. I don't know what they'll let us see. The production crew control what information runners get. To make the whole experience as frightening and miserable as possible."

"And you watched this for fun?"

"Everyone does. Uh oh.”

Kathryn looked to see what Ka-Gwyn had noticed. Up ahead, partly hidden behind a towering tree, was a flash of silver at about eye-level.

“Laser bot,” Ka-Gwyn warned. “Take cover!”

A crack of blood-red fire sliced through the trees, downing foliage and branches, sparking against the dry tinder. A sphere about the size of a soccer ball whizzed over head. What Kathryn wouldn’t give right then for a phaser! She ducked for cover behind a tree, but carefully tracked the sphere as it moved away, evaluating its speed and path, just like she would in a game of velocity. 

It swooped around again and again, and they were forced to run several more times. The sphere always made a distinctive whirring as it approached, a red eye at its centre line moving tracking from side to side. But it’s plane rarely changed, perhaps the operator preferred to keep it just above head height to make a good show for viewers eager to watch this terrible spectacle. No matter the reason, Kathryn could use that knowledge to her advantage. 

“Chakotay, look for something I can hit it with,” she called quietly, unsure who was listening in on their conversations.

She made a quick dash between trees, hoping to distract the bot enough to give Chakotay time to break a branch. Kathryn stood panting to regain her breath. She couldn’t see Ka-Gwyn at this point, and desperately hoped their friend hadn’t been hit.

“Kathryn.” Chakotay was by her side, pressed close, and passed her a decent sized branch. 

“Good work.” She weighed it in her hands. It felt heavy enough to do some damage.

The now familiar whizzing sounded to her left. She bolted forward, and just as laser fire zipped past her from the deadly red eye, Kathryn rolled, and then leapt to her feet. With a swing that would have made her childhood tennis coach proud, she thwacked the bot into the nearest tree. It fell to the floor, and in an instant Chakotay had grabbed it and opened its damaged shell, pulling wires free until the red eye went dead. 

Trying hard to hide her wince of pain, she moved close to him. “Let’s keep hold of this, and see what we can do with it later.”

Chakotay nodded, as Ka-Gwyn emerged from the trees. “You two make a good team,” she noted, as they resumed their fast-paced trek.

“Yes, we do,” Kathryn agreed, glancing at her first officer and erstwhile friend. 

He didn’t respond to either of those statements, but kept his eyes fixed ahead, and said instead, “We had better find somewhere to shelter for the night. It’ll be dark soon.”

Ka-Gwyn looked at Kathryn, and shrugged. Kathryn pursed her lips. So, Chakotay was still a long way from forgiving her. Clearly she’d have to work harder to regain his trust and affection.

Just as darkness fell, Ka-Gwyn’s keen eyes found a small cave in a rocky outcrop, and they used the last of the light to disguise the entrance with branches and foliage. Once inside, Kathryn propped herself against the wall opposite Chakotay. He opened the pack and took out the media cylinder.

After a moment's fiddling, Kathryn activated the tube, and a silent image was projected into the darkness of the cave. The pictures must have been taken earlier in the day when the light was still strong. The tall Hirogen female was tracking a runner, a male Kathryn only vaguely remembered from the transport. His face was flushed, his eyes wide with fear as he blundered through the undergrowth. In his shaking hand he clutched a knife. 

"He was fortunate to find that so quickly," Ka-Gwyn noted.

"Hmmm. I only hope it will save him. We've tangled with the Hirogen . They're formidable opponents." Kathryn glanced at Chakotay as she spoke, remembering those skirmishes against the Hirogen, and one encounter in particular, when they'd been thrown together in war time France. He’d been smitten with her, even then, and she’d fought to keep her attraction to him under control. In hindsight, there had been so many opportunities she refused to act on, so many chances for them to have gotten closer that she blithely overlooked, always imagining there was plenty of time. How foolish she’d been! 

The Hirogen moved with frightening speed through the forest, homing in on her prey, who stood trembling behind a tree. He lunged wildly at the woman as she closed in, but she dodged easily, and in seconds she’d snatched the blade from his hands and plunged it deep into his own chest. 

Ka-Gwyn turned away in horror, and Kathryn made a small sound of disgust deep in the back of her throat.

"And this is what passes for entertainment around here?" Chakotay rumbled.

Ka-Gwyn shrugged helplessly, her fine feline features locked into a grimace. The Hirogen pulled the knife from the man’s chest. He fell to the forest floor. She nudged his ribs with her toes, apparently decided he was dead, and then wiped the knife clean on the grass, before sticking it in her boot with a disrespectful sneer. Ka-Gwyn turned towards the corner, silently curled herself into a miserable ball, and said no more.

A heavy silence filled the cave, and after a while Kathryn could stand it no longer. "We should talk, Chakotay. Clear the air between us, don't you think?" He sighed, but said nothing. Kathryn filled the silence. "You're still angry with me. I understand that."

"Not angry. It’s just…" He sighed. "You frustrate the hell out of me sometimes." 

Kathryn felt desperate to dispel this tension. “Perhaps it’s time for some honesty between us.”

“I don’t think you really want to hear.”

She leaned forward, and said softly, “Chakotay, I  _ do _ . We’re never going to fix this unless we talk.”

"All right. You don't listen. You wall yourself off. I’m always there, ready to carry your burdens. yet you push me away. You put yourself in unnecessary danger, like that business with the Omega directive. I have to fight every time to remind you you’re not alone.”

“I'm in charge of a Starship thousands of light years from any kind of backup or command structure. A captain doesn’t have the luxury—”

“That’s bullshit, Kathryn, and you know it,” he snapped. “I’m not talking about joining the lower-decks drinking games. But you could let your friends help you when you need it.”

Kathryn could feel her hackles rising, and had to hold back a retort, because she didn’t want to get defensive and have the conversation to degenerate into a row. She needed to get him back on side, not alienate him more. 

He continued in a irritated tone, “Of course, that would mean you’d have to admit to yourself that you need help sometimes. That you're not invincible.”

Kathryn laughed sourly. “Heaven forbid." 

Chakotay snorted and fell silent. 

When he didn’t seem inclined to continue, Kathryn said  in a soft voice, "All that's been going on for years. We've always got past it. Why are you so angry with me this time? What's really been on your mind since the Equinox?”

"Did you sleep with him?"

Kathryn’s mouth dropped open. "What?” she spluttered, her face flushing red hot. “Ransom? You think I’ve been waiting all this time to leap into bed with the first Starfleet captain who happens cross my path?” 

"I need to understand why you were angry enough to lose all sense of perspective. So did you?”

Kathryn shook her head. She couldn't keep the indigence out of her tone. “Chakotay, I know I’ve not been the easiest person to get along with, but you’re being an ass.” 

“This is just like you. Ask for honesty and then take control of the narrative on your own terms.” He was building up a head of steam. Even in the darkness she could see a dangerous flash in his eyes, and she felt her own ire rising despite her best intentions. “And while we’re being honest, you flirt with me outrageously. There’s no other word for it, Kathryn, and it drives me crazy.”

Kathryn took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm, not rise to his anger. “First, I didn’t sleep with Ransom. The thought never even crossed my mind.”

“Oh.” His shoulders slumped a little.

"And I’m sorry about the flirting, I really am."

“Are you sorry you flirt with me or sorry you never let yourself follow through?” 

“I never did it with ill intent. I couldn't seem to stop myself, although I should have. I just...”

“What?”

She leaned towards him in the darkness, and took his hand. “I liked it. The flirting. And I wanted more. I still do.”

She leaned in closer to kiss him, but he drew in a sharp breath and pulled back before her lips were close enough to touch his. “Kathryn, tell me this. If I’d kissed you, one of those night on New Earth, would you have pushed me away?”

“No. I was very close to letting you in, emotionally and physically. I wanted to.”

“So, imagine we'd been lovers on New Earth. What would have happened when we returned to  _ Voyager _ ?”

She closed her eyes, considering her response. She had to be honest. She owed him that much, and this was never going to work unless they found a way to speak the truth. She sighed. “I would have insisted we end the intimate relationship, and returned to our command personas.” Sadness and regret flooded through her, a desperate scrabbling filling her heart as words tumbled out of her mouth, “But a lot of time has passed since then. I’ve had the chance to think about us, about what I really want...Things are different now.”

“Are they? We've gotten closer lots of times, and then you pull back. I don’t think this will be any different. We start something off tonight, then we get back to  _ Voyager  _ and bang, you’re all captain again and I’m left with the scraps of your affection. Dinner once a week and the odd hand on my chest in the briefing room. I can’t do it anymore, Kathryn. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not as simple as that. I trust your judgement, as captain.” He paused, and raised an ironic eyebrow. “Ninety five percent of the time.” His look became serious again. “I trust you with the crew’s safety, even with my own life. But with my heart? No, Kathryn, and I don’t mean this disrespectfully, but I’m afraid I don’t trust you at all.” 

Kathryn flinched. "I guess I deserve that."

He fell silent, and she stared into the darkness feeling numb, until the silence stretched out like an abyss between them. 

Eventually, she gathered her wits and senses. Obviously there would be no glibly talking her way back into his heart. He didn’t trust her and that was fair enough under the circumstances. But she hadn’t lost his respect completely, and that meant there was still reason to hope they could rebuild what they’d lost. He’d been endlessly patient with her over the years. Somehow, someway, she’d prove to him that she really did want things to be different between them. After all, actions speak louder than words, and back on the shuttle, he'd been prepared to die for her.


	7. Mr Randroshen and the Kaldavain WinterStar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Voyager, Harry Kim works on finding the captain and Commander Chakotay, while in the game things go from bad to worse.

Harry Kim shifted uncomfortably in Voyager's command chair—Captain Janeway’s chair—for  the third night in a row. Ordinarily he'd relish the opportunity to command Gamma Shift, but with the captain and commander still missing, he grew more uneasy every time he took the seat. It had been four days now; each passing hour made it harder to track the lost shuttle.

Ensign Hicks sat at the Conn and Mike Alaya was at Harry’s usual Ops station. 

“Sir,” Mike said, his voice tight with surprise, “I’m picking up a Federation signature.”

“The  _ Tereshkova _ ?” Harry’s heart lifted. They were due a little good luck.

“Looks like it.”

“Is it intact?” For a moment Harry dreaded the answer. If they’d located a debris field, part of him would rather not know.

“Very intact. Travelling at warp three.”

“Set an intercept course. Open a channel. On screen.” Harry stood up. “ _ Voyager _ to shuttle craft  _ Tereshkova _ .” 

There was a long silence, then a voice crackled through, audio only. “You are mistaken,  _ Voyager _ . This is the light cargo transport  _ Kaldavain WinterStar _ .”

Harry and Mike exchanged glances. “Uh, according to our sensor readings, that vessel is our shuttle. It went missing four days ago with two of our crew members aboard.”

A string of curses exploded over comms. “Sisphian swine! She promised me this shuttle was legitimate salvage! I paid—”

“Look, Mr…?”

“Randroshen.”

“Mr Randroshen, my name is Harry Kim, of the Federation Starship  _ Voyager. _ Would you mind switching on your view screen?” Harry always liked to see who he was talking to, and it was a central tenet of command training that visual communications built trust faster than audio only. Beside that, Harry liked to think he had an honest face. 

On the screen, a red-faced man appeared. Red-faced because he was angry, that was obvious from his expression. But his skin was vivid red all over, pocked with black spikes making him resemble a very short, very angry cactus. “Well?” the alien demanded.

Harry schooled his face into a neutral expression that would have made the captain proud. First contact was a delicate thing and he was determined not to blow it. He spread his hands wide open. “We’re not challenging your ownership of the shuttle. But I’m sure you understand we need to find our missing crew. To do that, we need to examine your sensor logs. Will you help us?”

“I have deadlines,” the pilot almost screamed. “I can’t waste time while you fiddle with sensor logs!” 

Harry sighed. “Where do you need to be, and when?”

“The Satrovax Nebular. In six hours.”

Harry glanced at Mike, who checked the navigation computer. “One point three light years.”

Harry did a quick calculation, working out how fast they could cover that distance at maximum warp. “If you bring the shuttle into our docking bay, we can get you there in three hours.”

There was a spluttering sound over the comms. “You expect me to hand myself over? How do I know I can trust you?”

“Well, Mr Randroshen, quite frankly you don’t." Harry paused, injecting a light note into his voice. "But if you’d like to try to outrun us or out gun us in that tiny shuttle, go right ahead.”

Randroshen coughed. “I see your point. Permission to dock?”

#

Harry strode to docking bay one to meet Randroshen, to find Tuvok and his team waiting. He’d briefed the commander en-route, and Harry was a little surprised to find the Vulcan security chief there ahead of him. He supposed all those drills paid off.

“Mr Kim, since you have already communicated with the occupant, I suggest you take the lead.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, pleased that Tuvok had sufficient confidence in him to make the suggestion. Harry activated the shuttle’s outer hatch and waited as the door powered open. “Mr Randroshen? I’m coming aboard.” Harry stepped inside, his hands held open in front of him.

The small alien was still seated at the helm, eyes fixed on one of the small view screens on the shuttle’s console. He turned to Harry, his black lips pulled into a frown, his arms crossed. “This is most inconvenient,” he said, clearly sulking.

“I apologise. But we have two missing people. It’s urgent we find them.”

“Hmph. You get me to Satrovax three hours?”

“We’re already on our way. Can my team come aboard?”

Randroshen glared at Harry. “No. Just you. My cargo is delicate!”

Harry put up his palms. “Fine. Just me. I promise I’ll be careful. You know, it would help a lot if you told me where you bought this shuttle.”

“I didn’t know it belonged to your Federation,” he said defensively.

“I told you, we just want to find our people. Where did you get it?”

“Sisphian traders, at an auction organised by the Elstrom Conglomerate.”

“Can you give me the coordinates?”

“Yes, but they won’t do you any good. It’s in deep space. The Conglomerate moves the auction each time. The coordinates are broadcast on an encrypted channel a few hours before the auction starts. There’ll be nothing left there now but warp trails and plasma residue.” The alien seemed unaccountably smug.

Harry suppressed a twinge of unease. That didn’t bode well. An auction arranged in such away almost certainly dealt in goods less than honestly acquired.

“Please give us the coordinates anyway,” Harry said with a casual tone. “Can you tell me more about these Sisphians?”

Randhroshen sniffed, his eyes darting back to the view screen he’d been watching as Harry boarded. Somewhat reluctantly, he pulled a data pad from the pocket of his jacket, tapped a few buttons, and passed Harry the device. 

“Here. For all the good it will do you.” Ranhroshen’s eyes were again drawn back to the screen. He seemed to be watching some kind of nature broadcast, cutting between a dense forest and a desert.

Harry coughed. “About the Sisphians?”

“Sisphians? They deal in almost anything. Ugly as moop-rat’s arses, and about as trustworthy.” Randroshen stared again at the screen, where Harry could now see people moving in the undergrowth. 

Harry stepped in front of the monitor. “Do they have a home world? Space station they work out of?”

“Hoi!” said Randroshen, nudging Harry aside with his red hand. “No. They’re itinerant traders. They turn up all over the place. Now if you don’t mind, I’m in the middle of something. Don’t you have things to check? Main computer’s back there, in case you’ve forgotten.” The alien waved an irritable hand towards the aft section. 

Harry sighed, and got out his tricorder while Randroshen settled back in his chair.

Harry moved to the back of the shuttle and stuck his head out of the doors, to see Tuvok waiting. 

“Sir, I’ll send the coordinates where Mr Randroshen acquired the shuttle to Seven of Nine in astrometrics. It should be possible to conduct a long-range scan, but according to our friend we won’t find much there now. The shuttle’s new owner,” he glanced over his shoulder at Randroshen, who was now shaking his fist at the view screen, “would prefer it if I conducted the investigation alone.” Harry lowered his voice. “I don’t think he’s a threat.”

“Very well. Crewman Evans, assist Mr Kim.” Tuvok glanced at Evans, who nodded her head in return. He turned to Harry, “Ensign, keep me informed of your progress.” Evans smiled briefly at Harry while Tuvok and the second security officer left the docking bay.

“Mariella,” Harry said, “would you do an external scan of the shuttle while I start on the logs? I saw some stress lines in the bulkheads. I’d like to know how that happened. Better stay out here, though.”

“Do you think he knows anything about what happened to the captain and Commander Chakotay?”

Harry chewed his lip before he answered. “I don’t know. But he’s the only lead we’ve got right now, and I want to keep him talking.”

Harry’s investigation established that the shuttle had been under enormous structural stress at some point in the last four days, probably close to a major breach. The front viewscreen had been skillfully repaired from the outside, and one of the EV suits was missing. Either Chakotay or the captain had been forced to leave the vessel to fix the damage.

The rest of the repairs, however, had been hasty and would certainly never pass for Starfleet work. In fact, he’d barely call the shuttle space-worthy. The sensor logs, however, had been cleverly wiped, leaving no information on the shuttle’s location before the auction. Harry cursed with frustration. Should he tell Randroshen about the shoddy repairs? Maybe if he offered  _ Voyager’s  _ services to strong arm the Sisphians into a refund, Randroshen would ‘remember’ a way to get in touch with them.

“Mr Randroshen, I’m afraid…” Harry looked again at the images the small man seemed glued to. A vicious looking blue-skinned brute of a man was chasing a much smaller man in green robes through a forest. He looked terrified, and was stumbling desperately. “What  _ is _ that you’re watching?”

“Get out of the way, Harry Kim. I’ve got forty persecs on Big Blue there to win.”

“It’s a race? Doesn’t look like a fair contest to me,” Harry said, his stomach tipping over at the sight of the man’s visceral fear as he flung himself over felled trees and thorns tore at his clothes in his efforts to get away from his blue skinned pursuer.

“What’s fair got to do with it? And it’s not a race. It’s a chase. ‘ _ Live to run, run to live _ .’”

Harry wanted to look away. He had a horrible feeling something awful was about to happen, but his eyes felt locked in to the screen. The blue man dived at the runner’s legs, and the smaller man fell hard. Harry physically flinched.

A woman, also in green robes, dived into shot, and thwacked the blue man’s head with a short club made of wood. She hauled her friend to his feet, and they bolted through the forest to the sound of dramatic music. A close in shot of Blue’s forehead showed a trickle of purple blood oozing from a wound. He shook his head and roared. 

Disgusted, Harry switched the monitor off. “Is this what passes for entertainment around here?”

“Pah! Don’t judge what you don’t understand, Federation.  _ Le Tretz _ is a tradition in this sector.”

“Maybe so, but we have to talk about this shuttle. You’re taking your life in your hands flying it. Didn’t you run a diagnostic?”

“Of course I did!” Randroshen spat. Then he squinted. “Well I think I did.” He turned to Harry with a tight smile, his hands resting on his portly belly. “Let’s just imagine I did. What would I have found?”

“Structural integrity at sixty three percent. Oxygen reserves almost depleted. The warp manifolds twisted and the plasma corrupted. Want me to go on?”

Randroshen scowled. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’ll prove it to you.”

“All right.” Randroshen followed Harry to the aft section. 

When Harry reached the main computer, the small alien was trailing behind him, looking at his handheld device. Music boomed from the small speakers.

“ _ Live to run, run to live. The chase is on! We have seven contestants still in the game!” _

Harry groaned. “Can’t you switch that off?”

“Certainly not. Look, this one is wading through a swamp. The fool!” Randroshen grinned.

Harry wouldn’t look. There was no way he was going to participate in a brutal spectacle, even by watching. 

A female, rough edged voice that turned Harry’s blood cold grated through the speakers. “There’s something in the water with you. Hurry!”

Harry snatched the device from Randroshen. On the screen he saw a close up of Commander Chakotay’s face. The captain stood at the edge of a swamp. “Where the hell is this?” 

“Hoi, I don’t know. No one does. It changes with each show.” Randroshen stared at Harry. “Why?”

Harry almost shook the infuriating little man. “Those are our people!”

“Ohh! They got themselves captured and ended up in  _ Le Tretz _ ? Well, take a good look. Because this is the last you’ll see of them.”

Harry clutched the device, his heart sinking in horror as he watched. Chakotay was wading through waste-deep water, clutching a backpack high above his head, while the captain and another figure stood shouting on the bank. Behind Chakotay, the water rippled. A black shadow skimmed the surface. The captain thrust a desperate hand toward Chakotay, but he wasn’t close enough to grasp it. The water broke into a plume of white, and a leather-skinned beast with the many-toothed maw of a lamprey at the end of a hideous nose reared out of the murky water. Long, grasping tentacles loomed over Chakotay’s head. A roar burst through the speakers. 

Harry bent down and grabbed Randroshen by his lapels. “If you know anything about this, you’d better tell me!”

“I don’t!” the red man squeaked, rising up to his tiptoes. Harry forced himself to let the man go. 

Then he dashed from the shuttle. “Evans, don’t let him leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Kim to Tuvok. Sir, you’d better meet me in astrometrics.” Still clutching Randroshen’s handheld device, Harry sprinted out of the docking bay.

 

**Le Tretz**

Chakotay felt a roar rumbling deep inside his chest, and saw fear in Kathryn’s eyes as she stared over his head. “Get rid of the backpack!” she yelled.

He could see the sense in that, but was loathe to give up whatever resources the pack contained. He’d been walking since first light and had waded through at least four hundred meters of turgid water to get it. “No, I can make it!” he shouted.

A stinking rush of white water crashed onto his head, almost blinding him. He shook his head to clear his vision, and fixed his eyes on Kathryn and Ka-Gwyn.

Something roared again behind him. He wanted to look, but years of training held sway and he surged forward, eyes on the bank ahead of him. He could make it. Just a few metres more and he’d be on dry ground.

Kathryn reached out a hand, but he couldn’t have grasped it even if he’d been close enough, as he needed both hands to support the weight of the backpack over his head.

“Ditch the backpack now, that’s an order!” Kathryn roared, with a force that almost rivalled the beast behind him.

A split second decision: trust his instinct or Kathryn’s judgement? No contest. Chakotay swung the backpack behind him, hurling it right into the jaws of a raging monster. The creature’s teeth snapped around it, and what passed for it’s head shook violently left and right.

Kathryn’s hand clasped his, and Ka-Gwyn grabbed his shoulder. In a blur, he scrambled out of the swamp and they set off at a stumbling run through the scrubby undergrowth.

Breath heaving, legs shaking, he glanced back.

“Is it following?” Ka-Gwyn asked, her voice pitched high with fear.

“I don’t think so.” He leaned his hands on his knees and tried to slow his respiration rate as his breaths puffed like steam in the cold morning air. Another second and he’d have been dead. Kathryn’s judgement was sound. His instincts, apparently, were off base. He wondered what else he was wrong about?

He looked up to see Kathryn staring at him. “Are you all right?” she asked. Her hand hovered, as if she was about to reach out and press her palm to his chest, but instead she made a small noise at the back of her throat, and held herself back. Her eyes seemed haunted. 

Space. He’d told her he wanted space, and she was respecting his choice and giving him exactly what he’d asked for. So why did it feel like distance between them was the last thing they both needed? The instinct to reach out to her was almost overpowering. He had to be strong. Somehow.

Chakotay nodded, his heart clenched into a tight knot in his chest. “I’m fine. You?”

“Good,” she said, nodding briefly, curling her hand into a fist and letting it drop to her side. She took a step back from him. 

In truth, Chakotay felt about as far away from _fine_ as it was possible to be. As for Kathryn, the desolate look in her eyes told him that for her,  _ good _ was a distant memory.


	8. The Life of a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events inside the game take a deadly turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning; OC's die in this chapter.

Ka-Gwyn sloped along miserably beside Kathryn, while Chakotay, the object of the most bitter regrets of Kathryn’s life, scouted a few meters ahead through the scrubby desert terrain, despite limping visibly.

“I should have known better,” Ka-Gwyn muttered. “I’ve seen the game enough times. I might have guessed there’d be something in the water.” Ka-Gwyn hung her head. “He could have been killed.”

Kathryn couldn’t let Ka-Gwyn slip into self-recrimination and despondency. Mental attitude was ninety percent of the battle in situations like this. “It’s not your fault,” she said firmly. “This is on me. Chakotay is under my command, that means I’m responsible for his safety. I should have assessed the risk more thoroughly before I let him go in.”

Ka-Gwyn shot her a sideways glance, her yellow eyes narrowing. “I hope you are as careful with his heart.”

A surprised laugh escaped Kathryn’s throat. “Where did that come from?” Her natural inclination was to shy away from this type of conversation, but evading her feelings got them into the sorry posistion she and Chakotay found themselves in. She had to do better. Starting now.

“Is it that obvious?” She sighed. “I’ve finally realised that I need to be much more careful with his heart,” she said, and added quietly. “And my own. I just hope it’s not too late.”

Ka-Gwyn looked at her. “Whether you make it out of Le Tretz alive, I can’t say. But if you do, then I don’t think its too late. He cares about you a great deal.”

“I think he’s thoroughly disenchanted with me. And I deserve it.”

“That might be true. But that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Kathryn looked long and hard at Ka-Gwyn, who had really only known her a few hours, and Chakotay a handful of days. “You seem to have an uncannily accurate read of our situation.”

“Ha. I told Chakotay, you remind me of my middle brother. He overcame great difficulty to be with one he loved.”

“Oh? I’d like to meet your brother and ask him how he did it.”

“Make good on your promise to get us out of this alive,” Ka-Gwyn declared, her stride picking up pace, “and I’ll introduce you.”

When they stopped to rest, Kathryn spent time investigating the technological devices at her disposal, and figuring out how she could use them to her advantage. Almost as an afterthought she activated the comms stick. It wasn’t as if she wanted to watch, but they needed to learn all they could.

The device cast an image into the air just ahead, which Kathryn kept half an eye on as she worked. The couple they’d seen earlier were running again, although this time it was towards a barrier she Chakotay and Ka-Gwyn had passed through just after they’d cleared the swamp. 

It had been a kind of check point. Ka-Gwyn called it a zone change, explaining that these areas were treacherous because they often tried to trap contestants between a new danger ahead and the death-bot behind. Kathryn was pretty sure she didn’t want to meet a death-bot, and fortunately they had passed the check point without incident. She wasn’t sure the couple on the imager would be as lucky.

Of the pair, the woman looked older than the man, although he was barely an adult, Kathryn realised, as the gangly young man almost stumbled and fell. His companion turned back, and Kathryn suddenly had the strong sense the woman could be his mother. Whatever their relationship, she dragged him to his feet, and urged him forward on  their desperate flight.

“Those two, do you know where they’re from?”

Ka-Gwyn turned to the images. “Dressed like that, I’d say, they’re Dintini Pilgrims. Probably on their way to his coming of age ceremony, the Passan-differentia,  when they bumped into the Sisphians. I don’t fancy their chances. Hmph. Mind you, I don’t much fancy ours, either.”

Janeway fiddled with the remains of the bot. “Well, on that score, I have news. I think I can piggy back a coded transmission on the carrier wave broadcasting this unpleasant spectacle across the Delta Quadrant.”

“What will that do?”

“Give my crew a way to trace us.”

“If they pick it up.”

“They are looking for us, Ka-Gwyn. There’s every chance they’ll find us, and soon.”

“You have a lot of faith in people who could be half way across the sector by now.”

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay, who was squinting into the distance at the top of a dune. “They’ve found us before when the situation seemed pretty hopeless.”

“You and Chakotay make a habit of getting lost?”

Kathryn laughed. “No. I was thinking of a time a few years ago. We were both infected with a virus and spent several months stranded on a planet. The crew risked a great deal to find a cure and return for us.”

“That must have been rough.”

“Oh, it wasn’t all bad. Well, none of it was bad, when I think about it. I discovered an unexpected love of gardening.”

“I think Chakotay would not be the worst person to be stranded with,” Ka-Gwyn said, giving Kathryn a sideways glance.

She laughed softly. “He wasn’t.” She wondered if he could say the same about her, given the years of tension between them. Kathryn raised a smile for Ka-Gwyn. Talking to the feline-woman reminded her of a simpler life, when she had people she could talk to who were not subordinates. It had been a long time since she’d experienced that kind of freedom. “If we’ve missed opportunities,” she said wistfully, “then it’s my fault.”

Kathryn’s eyes jolted back to the images playing out on the sand in front of them. The runners were approaching a check-point, but the young man’s eyes were wide with fear as he stumbled to a stop. The next moment Kathryn understood why. Ahead of the terrified runners was the Hirogen, standing boldly, knife in hand. The woman tried to haul the boy forward, and at first Kathryn thought it wasn’t logical to keep running towards the fierce woman. But then she understood. Behind them hovered a mechanical device like the one she and Chakotay had disabled. It’s red eye was active. The boy resisted, shaking his head. His mother tried to drag him forward.

But the young man broke away, clearly more fearful of the Hirogen than the bot. 

“Don’t go back, fool,” Ka-Gwyn muttered. “It will be the last thing you do.”

In seconds a laser tore from the bot. His mother screamed, and took a step forward, holding her arms out desperately. Both were consumed in fiery red light, flaring like a hellish furnace. 

Kathryn looked away, bile stinging her throat. “Go only forwards,” she muttered. Only two rules, and that was one of them. She hated the people who devised this game more than ever. Disgusted, she turned the image off. 

As she completed her work she became aware of Chakotay standing by her shoulder. She wondered how long he’d been in earshot, and if he’d overheard her conversation with Ka-Gwyn. 

“I can’t understand anyone wanting to watch that stuff,” Kathryn said, glancing back at him.

“Beings the galaxy over seem to revel in the misfortune of others. Our own Federation holodecks can cater to any dark urge. Sometimes I wonder how many of us are a few steps away from savages.”

Kathryn turned to stare at him, and he glanced quickly away. Was that a not so subtle poke at the way she’d treated Noah Lessing? It wasn't like Chakotay to be cruel, so maybe it wasn’t aimed at her. Or perhaps he still felt the need to punish her. A heavy weight she recognised as misery tried to settle on her shoulders.

“We should get going,” Ka-Gwyn said, shaking her head, as if to clear the loathsome images and the tension in the air. 

Kathryn flicked the transceiver to activate her signal, packed the remaining kit away before they set out into the dessert.

As they left the scrublands and headed into open desert, Chakotay fell into painful step beside Kathryn. He seemed almost contrite, and Kathryn felt a surge of hope that he’d had a change of heart. 

“Look,” he said, “what I said last night. About Ransom.”

“Accusing me of sleeping with him?”

“I had no right to ask you that. I can’t judge your choices. Lord knows you haven’t batted an eyelid at mine.”

So, he thought she didn’t notice or care when he slept with other women? She was a better actress than she gave herself credit for. Fleeting though the relationships were, each one had been a knife twisting in her gut. And besides that, obviously he hadn’t really believed her denial about Ransom. That made her fill with anger, which she quelled only with great effort.

She grabbed his arm and stopped him walking. “Chakotay, I  didn’t sleep with him. I wouldn’t sleep with anyone unless I had deep feelings for them. And someone like Ransom could never come close. He didn’t have an ounce of your integrity. He—”

Chakotay gave a dry laugh. “Have you forgotten I was a Maquis terrorist?”

“I saw your file, Chakotay, and besides, I know you. You were fighting for your people’s right to exist, after the Cardassians struck first. Ransom was just looking for a shortcut home and torturing innocent beings to get it.” 

He paused, and looked into her eyes. It seemed like she might reach him, that the damn wall she’d so painstakingly constructed between them would let through a chink of light, and from there she’d have a chance of winning him back. “He wasn’t you, Chakotay,” she said earnestly.  

“All right. I believe you’re telling me the truth, right now,” he said. "But sometimes it's like you don't see me. I'm right there in front of you, but you can't see past our roles."

"I understand. And I hate that I've made you feel that way.” How could she make him understand the impossibility of her past choices? That now she wanted—needed— things to change.

“Sometimes I feel like I was born in that uniform. I’m afraid I'll die in it, and I'll have forgotten to live in between. This thing with Ransom, if it’s shown me anything it’s how much I need your counsel. You stopped me from going too far.”

“I told you, I’ll be the same loyal first officer I always was. That hasn’t changed.”

The chink of light she thought she’d seen faded. “But we can’t be anything more? Is that what you’re saying?”

He turned away, a world of torment in his eyes. “Kathryn, don’t. This thing between us. It’s too painful for me.”

She took a breathless step towards him. “How can I convince you I want things to change?”

He tugged his arm free. “Can’t you see what this is doing to me? Damn it, I want you, of course I do. I’m sure you’ve known that all along.” A hint of bitterness crept into his tone, although she thought he tried to hide it. “You say you want things to be different, but when—if— we get back to Voyager, I think the whole thing will reset. You’ll be in command again. I’ll still be your first officer, and I don’t believe anything you say or do here will negate the fact that you won’t have a relationship with a subordinate. So please stop. It only makes things harder.”

Kathryn watched his back as he strode away from her, her heart sinking to her boots before realisation hit her. Despite the fire in his tone, his admission was cause for hope. He wanted her. Just as much as she wanted him. If they could survive this terrible game and get back to Voyager, then she’d damn well prove she meant every word she said. 

**Voyager**

“Seven of Nine to the bridge. I have successfully narrowed the search parameters to three square parsecs. Request permission to route the long range scanners through the deflector dish to achieve a more accurate set of coordinates.”

Harry watched Tuvok as he considered his response. Unlike Harry, who sat in the captain’s chair every chance he got, Tuvok had chosen to stand throughout his most recent extended command of  _ Voyager _ . He’d been the same when the captain and Chakotay had been infected with that virus. Harry had never figured out if it was a personal preference for standing or some kind of respect for Janeway’s absence. But that sounded a bit too much like superstition, so it was probably the former.

“Permission granted,” Tuvok said, nodding at Harry to release the deflector controls to astrometrics. “But please be brief as we will be unable to raise shields.”

“Understood," Seven replied.

Harry smiled. At least she’d gotten the hang of the chain of command. Time was she’d have done what she needed to without the ‘inefficiency’ of checking. Seven had been working around the clock to trace the transmission since he’d given her Randroshen’s device.

“Ensign Kim's assistance would speed up this process.”

Again Tuvok nodded at Harry. “Mr Kim is on his way.”

When Harry reached astrometrics, Seven was displaying images of the captain and Commander Chakotay deep in conversation, traversing what looked like a brutal desert. A cat-like female stalked a few paces ahead, and several hundred meters behind them, hidden from their view by the curve of a sand dune, was a Hirogen.

“We must hurry,” Seven said. “Besides the captain’s group, only two other contestants remain in this so-called chase, and both are formidable opponents.”

Harry suppressed a groan. Since he’d last seen the images, four people had died.

“What happened to them?”

“Two were killed by the game’s hardware, laser fire. The Hirogen killed the others. She is the only contestant with a weapon at this point, although I am certain the large blue individual is more than capable of killing with his bare hands.”

In combat, with a phaser, the captain's skills were legendary. He certainly wouldn’t want to go up against her. But unarmed, fighting the Hirogen or the towering brute he’d seen earlier? Harry shuddered at the thought of his much respected, but undeniably diminutive captain going hand to hand with either of those two seasoned predators.

“What do you need me to do?” He asked Seven.

“Monitor the g-wave frequencies at the high end of the subspace spectrum, while I invert the carrier wave in a series of directed bursts.”

“On it.” Harry glanced again at the screen. The Hirogen was gaining on the captain’s group with shocking speed. With his as throat dry as sandpaper, he got to work.

In minutes they had narrowed the origin of the signal sufficiently to give Tuvok a general heading, and Harry felt Voyager change course and increase speed. Now they had to narrow down the source of the signal to get them close enough to detect the captain’s life signs, and beam her and Chakotay to safety before it was too late. One more glance at the hateful images projected on the screen told him time was running out. The Hirogen was closing in.

Seven switched the image off. “Distraction from your task will cause inefficiency, when there is nothing we can do to alter the outcome,” she said.

Harry didn't argue. The only thing he could do to help the captain and Commander Chakotay was find them before it was too late. 

#

Ka-Gwyn and Chakotay walked side by side, talking in low voices, their words stolen from Kathryn’s ears by the desert wind. He smiled occasionally, and Kathryn was glad to see it. She matched his pace with ease now, because although he was surely trying hard not to show it, he’d torn something in the swamp that caused him to limp and flinch as the desert sands shifted beneath his feet.

It had been many years since Cadet Janeway had taken desert survival skills, and she hadn’t enjoyed that experience anymore than she enjoyed it now. Years in the Delta Quadrant might have hardened her resolve and honed her tactical skills, but her body had inevitably aged. Right now, she felt about a hundred years old and craved a shower, a decent meal and her own bed. 

Kathryn Janeway couldn’t allow herself to wallow, though. Still in command—even of a party of two— she kept her senses on alert. They were not alone in this bleak landscape, and whoever else remained alive here would be determined to kill them. They all trudged up yet another sand dune in silence.

Beside her Chakotay stiffened, even as she became aware of a sound carried on the breeze.

The next moment a grey flash filled her vision, barely giving her time to shout a warning before a tall figure bore down.

The Hirogen struck Chakotay a glancing blow before turning with remarkable speed towards Ka-Gwyn. 

“Ka-Gwyn, run!” Kathryn yelled, yanking Chakotay to his feet.

Ka-Gwyn pounced away, but in seconds the Hirogen had jerked her backwards and thrust her arm tight around her throat in a choke hold.

Chakotay roared and rushed at the pair, knocking both off their feet.

Kathryn watched helplessly as a tangle of limbs and fur and scales tumbled out of sight down the dune.

Kathryn bolted up and over the dune, heart thundering, cold with horror despite the blistering heat, dreading what she might see as she topped the peak.

A flash of silver in the sunlight. In the chaos of bodies, Kathryn recognised the knife the Hirogen had taken from the runner she’d killed. Grunts, hisses, helps of pain came from the writhing mass of arms and legs. Rolling. Struggling. A shriek of pain. A dark stain in the sand that could only have been blood.

“No!” she choked, her knees quaking as she slid down the hill.

The blade was buried beneath Ka-Gwyn’s ribcage, deep in her belly. The injured woman looked down at the knife with an expression of surprise, her hands grasping for the hilt, a terrible gurgling coming from the back of her throat.

At the same time, Chakotay had the Hirogen pressed face down into the sand.

Kathryn sank to her knees. “Don’t move,” she told Ka-Gwyn.

Right beside them, Chakotay was struggling with the Hirogen. “Stop, damn it. If we work together we can all get out of here.”

“No one escapes Le Tretz,” the Hirogen spat.

Ka-Gywn pulled Kathryn closer, her feline features hardening. “You must not spare her.”

“We can’t kill her in cold blood,” Kathryn said.

Ka-Gwyn looked at Kathryn, and then turned her head to one side. The Hirogen didn’t stop. With a roar she rolled closer to Kathryn and Ka-Gwyn, twisting Chakotay beneath her, pinning him by his throat. Kathryn’s heart thundered. The world seemed to slow. Chakotay’s eyes met hers, his face red, gasping for breath. Even as Kathryn moved toward the Hirogen, ready to kick the woman’s temple, knowing that despite what she’d just said she’d kill if she had to, Ka-Gwyn winced and grunted.

“Fortunately, my blood is hot.” In one movement she yanked the blade from her own flesh and thrust it into the Hirogen’s neck.

Kathryn followed through with a hefty kick to the ribs, and Chakotay was free.

Ka-Gwyn flopped back into the sand, blood pumping from her wound, her hands fluttering uselessly trying to stem the flow. Kathryn sunk to her knees, desperately adding her hand over Ka-Gwyn ‘s, but she knew it was useless. Blood was hot and sticky on her fingers. So much blood. Rasping, Chakotay crawled two or three paces on his hands and knees, and added his hands to the futile effort to stop Ka-Gwyn’s life slipping away.

“Hold on,” he pleaded. "We had a deal. To get out of here together." 

Ka-Gwyn wheezed. “Friend Chakotay. Don’t give up. On life or love.” Her voice faltered into a whisper, and her breath gurgled in her chest.

The desert wind stung Kathryn’s face as Ka-Gwyn's final breath rattled from her lungs. 

Kathryn's hands, beneath Chakotay’s on Ka-Gwyn’s now still belly, were wet with Ka-Gwyn’s blood. Shaking, she lifted them away. Chakotay gripped her hand fiercely, and they fell into a desperate, choked embrace.

“Are you all right?” Kathryn rasped, her throat raw with unshed tears.

She felt him nod against her. “You?” he breathed.

“Nothing will be right until we’re back aboard  _ Voyager _ ,” she murmured, and for a bittersweet moment they held tight, taking comfort in one another in a way they had never once allowed themselves before.

Kathryn found Chakotay's hand with hers, and threaded her fingers through his. "I'm so sick of losing people, Chakotay."

“We can’t stay here,” he whispered against her neck. “We’re too exposed.” He looked at Ka-Gwyn’s body in the sand. “I hate to leave her like this.”

“I know,” Kathryn said. She bent forward and shut the dead woman’s eyes against the punishing sand and the brutal sun. It was little enough ceremony to respect the life of a friend, but it was all she had to offer.


	9. The Janeway Manoeuver, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay and Janeway are trapped inside a game where only one can survive. Their friend is dead, and they're out of food and water, and the deadly Hunter is determined to be the victor. Will Voyager reach them in time?

Chakotay turned his face away from Ka-Gwyn’s body. He’d told her he would keep her safe, that his ship would come and they would get her home to her family. Instead, she’d bled out in the dust before his eyes. His shoulders slumped. It felt like everything he cared for had slipped away. No, not everything. Kathryn was right here beside him, and she’d told him she wanted things between them to change. No matter what his better judgement screamed at him, he wanted to believe her.

He needed to push those seductive thoughts from his mind, though. They had to survive this hell before he could even begin to process anything else. Regretfully, he moved away from Ka-Gywn, bent down and turned the dead Hirogen over. With a sour sickness in his throat he pulled the knife from her neck and wiped the blood from the blade.

He rose, and offered the knife to Kathryn, who watched him with weary eyes. She shook her head. “You should keep that.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Hand to hand against that Hunter, at least I stand a fighting chance. You on the other hand…”

Kathryn sighed. “There’s a certain logic there, but I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. But I do need you to agree.” He took her hand and placed the hilt firmly in it. “Don’t hesitate, Kathryn. He won’t.”

Kathryn nodded. “All right. No heroics from you, though. We’re _both_ getting out of this.”

He nodded, their eyes locking briefly before she withdrew her hand and moved away. He’d asked her for space, so he supposed she was consciously dialling down the intensity between them. He felt a pang of regret. He’d thought that having space would make things better. So why did distance hurt just as much as being close?

#

Harry wanted—needed—to know the captain and commander were still alive, but he feared viewing the image stream. Seven, on the other hand, showed no indication of curiosity, remaining perfectly focused on their task. They had tracked the transmission’s source to a region of space spanning roughly two light years, containing six M-class planets. It would take more than a day to get close enough to scan each planet—even longer to pick out two humans from the myriad of life signs. They _had_ to narrow it down. But how?

“Can we detect any of the tech these people are using?” Harry asked. “They must have a pretty hefty power source.” Unfortunately, the organisers of this ghoulish spectacle knew exactly how to cover their tracks, scattering the transmission’s carrier beam at the point of origin and making it impossible to pinpoint the exact location. Even at high warp, long before _Voyager_ reached them it could be game over for the captain and Chakotay.

Harry studied the data he’d collected. Signals of all sorts came in from the inhabited planets: microwaves and gamma waves, many different radio and video broadcasts, and—

He glanced up at Seven. “There’s a repeating number inside this particular transmission stream. Seven-four-six-five-six.” Seven strode over to his console, her imposing presence at his side both reassuring and, as always, causing a little flush of heat in his face he worked hard to ignore.

“The registration of this vessel is _USS Voyager NCC-seven-four-six-five-six,_ ” Seven noted. “It is a message from the captain.”

Harry’s pulse leapt. “Can you isolate that part of the data-stream?”

Seven didn’t smile, but a look of intense satisfaction passed over her features as she worked. In less than two minutes she said, “I’m sending coordinates to the bridge now.”

As Harry ran a quick calculation based on the coordinates they had pinpointed, his heart sank. Even at top speed, they were three hours away from rescuing Chakotay and the captain.

#

“Chakotay, we need to pick up the pace,” Kathryn said. She could see he was struggling. The limp he’d been trying to hide had grown worse since they left Ka-Gywn’s body in the scrub. It was hard going over the open desert, their feet sinking into shifting sands, the sun merciless. Neither she nor he had slept properly in two days, and with his bigger body size Chakotay must be suffering most from the cruel effects of lack of food and water. Her own lips were dry and cracked.

Kathryn had glimpsed movement on the horizon twice in the past hour. She sensed they were being pursued, like animals worn down to weaken them before the predator pounced.

As they walked, she activated the transmission stick. _Three contestants remaining... Three contestants remaining...._ the images declared. The visuals regularly depicted the “win zone,” the area they were supposed to fight to reach. It was a high platform, presumably a landing pad, enabling the game coordinators to swoop the victor off to whatever came next.

“This win zone. Do you think the best strategy would be to go there or to avoid it?” Chakotay wheezed.

In truth, Kathryn didn’t know. But she _should_ know. It was her job to choose the best course of action, to get it right, and yet it seemed her judgement these days was wildly off the mark. She glanced at Chakotay. _Especially_ when it came to him. He was looking at her expectantly, still ready to follow her commands. She hardly deserved his loyalty.

She straightened her back and made her choice. “We can’t hide from this, Chakotay. We need to face it head on. It will only get harder as we get weaker.”

He nodded, closed his eyes briefly, then looked up and offered a small smile. “All right. Head on it is.”

They walked for hours and made small talk about what they would like to do when they returned to Voyager. Their moods lifted a little. Kathryn wanted a bath. Chakotay wanted to meditate. They both wanted a good meal. “I miss leola root. I never thought I’d hear myself say that.” Kathryn said. “Hell, I even miss Tom Paris and his betting pool.”

Chakotay raised an eyebrow. “You know about the betting pool?” He’d been turning a blind eye to it, as long as it didn’t get out of hand.

She grinned slyly. “I bet the odds on you and me have fluctuated over the years.”

Chakotay spluttered. “I don’t think he ever took bets on _that_ …”

Kathryn laughed, and punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m pulling your leg.”

He’d missed the sound of her laugh. He supposed his post- _Equinox_ rage had truly faded in the face of much bigger concerns—losing Ka-Gwyn and their lives on the line. It seemed pointless to hold onto anger when they would probably be dead in the next few hours. It was time for building bridges, not shoring up walls he never wanted in the first place.

So Chakotay laughed too. “If we get out of this, I hope we can at least be friends again. We’ve come too far to let that slip away.”

“I do understand why you’re frustrated with me. I’ve been less than forthright with my feelings over the years.”

“It’s all right,” he said lightly. “I call it the _Janeway Manoeuvre_. You seem to be in my grasp and then at the last minute you dodge away. I’m floored, left with nothing solid beneath my feet.” He smiled as he spoke, to stop her from feeling blamed or bad about it. “I do understand _why_ Kathryn,” he went on. “I might not agree with you, but I get the reasons for your choices.”

He knew she could no more change her deepest values than she could fly _Voyager_ past warp ten. In truth, he didn’t want her to change. She was smart, courageous, dedicated. Stubborn. She could also be gentle and had a wicked sense of humour, although that hadn’t asserted itself in far too long. She was beautiful. Sometimes quite impossible. He loved her anyway.

At that moment, a blue shape sprang out of the bushes. Hunter. Chakotay swore and thrust himself between the big man and Kathryn.

Hunter lowered his head and charged. Chakotay barrelled backwards as Hunter’s shoulder slammed into his torso. He grabbed a flailing arm and swung the man over his hip. They tumbled to the sand in a grappling, scrappy heap. He guessed his enemy had no weapon or he’d have used it by now. Chakotay held tight to keep the man close, so he couldn't get a swing at him. He glimpsed Kathryn over Hunter’s shoulder as they rolled.

Kathryn flung herself onto Hunter’s back. Something in her hand cracked a glancing blow across the big man’s head. He grunted in pain and fell back.

“Listen to me,” Kathryn hissed, the rock she’d struck him with still in her hand. “We don’t have to fight each other.”

Hunter stared at her, dazed.

She took a wary step forward. “My name is Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation starship _Voyager._ This is my first officer, Chakotay. If we join forces we can all survive this.”

Hunter rocked with laughter, his white dreadlocks trembling like wisps of willow in the breeze. “Impossible!” He leapt up and sprinted away before Chakotay could even struggle to his feet. Hunter paused only briefly to sneer over his shoulder. “Only one can live.”

Chakotay pulled himself painfully upright. He moved closer to Kathryn. Her jaw was set, her breathing fast. She trembled slightly. He rested his hand on her small shoulder. “You tried,” he reassured her. “But next time,” he added softly, “I’m afraid you’ll have to kill him.”

#

Kathryn and Chakotay continued walking, but Kathryn reduced her reduced pace. Chakotay’s skirmish must have hurt him, as he occasionally rubbed his ribs. She kept glancing behind her, listening for signs of pursuit, but as the day wore on Hunter didn’t return.

A metal structure rose in the distance. “I guess that’s the finish post,” Chakotay commented.

Kathryn didn't like the odds one bit. Chakotay was hurt, and they were both exhausted. Hunter was vicious and not prepared to compromise. Perhaps they should try to find a defensible spot. But she'd seen laser bots more than once and felt certain the people responsible for this terror wouldn't tolerate hiding for very long. And without food and water they were getting weaker all the time.

The ground rumbled beneath their feet as they approached the structure. Four iron legs rose hundreds of meters into the sky, topped by a wide metal platform. It might have been part of a disused docking area, perhaps acquired as scrap and located here for the game. A ladder ran right up the side of one of the legs, which were rusty and had seen more than one impact over the years.

"I guess this means we climb," said Chakotay with resignation.

It was a long, laborious climb. As they reached the final rung and pulled themselves over the top, exhausted, the ground far below quaked. Whether it was a natural phenomenon or devised by the game’s masters to torment them, Kathryn never knew, but the dais on which they stood panting, vibrated. An antenna towered above them, shaking. Kathryn reached for Chakotay as the surface beneath them shifted sharply.

“Chakotay!”

Thrown off balance, his weak leg gave way and he twisted back just as she lurched forwards, the antenna's metal frame shuddering so deeply she felt it in her chest. Then, with a heart-wrenching screech, part of it fell. Chakotay disappeared from sight. Kathryn screamed his name and flew to the place he’d been standing. One end of a metal girder hung some meters over the edge of the landing pad. Chakotay’s lower body was pinned beneath the other end. Then the girder began to pivot. Kathryn scrambled forwards and flung herself at him, fearing it would take him with it as it plummeted to the ground.

He roared with pain as she yanked him back from the edge. The rusty metal girder gave a sickening creak, and then disappeared. Seconds later their ears were assaulted by a bone-jarring crash. Then the platform was still.

Chakotay groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, his body wracked with pain.

“Where are you hurt?”

“My hip. I think it’s broken.”

Kathryn cursed silently. A hip fracture was a dangerous injury. Even in the 24th century it needed prompt medical attention, and she had nothing with which to treat him. She’d have to immobilise him somehow and hope he wasn’t bleeding internally. Then what? There was no way off this roof, no sign of _Voyager_ , and Hunter would surely…

Even as the thought formed in her mind, footsteps clanged behind her. She turned. Hunter’s long shadow fell upon her. For the first time she saw him fully instead of glimpsing him as a figure on the horizon or a flash of blue hate dashing towards her. He was tall and muscular, his bare blue arms bulging. He wore white dreadlocks, and woven between the strands of hair were strips of black fabric. His irises were yellow, but his eyes looked swollen and puffy, the whites flicked with red. She noted with satisfaction that hr rock had at least done _some_ damage. His big fists hung menacingly at his sides.

“I’ll enjoy finishing you, Janeway,” he rumbled. “But I think I’ll kill your mate first.”

He turned, perhaps to a camera that Kathryn couldn’t see, perhaps simply to the wind, and said, “I am G’hrel Charack-Nore. The greatest champion Le Tretz has ever seen!” He beat his fist into his chest, as if expecting glorification from some unseen audience.

Kathryn put herself between Hunter and Chakotay. “I won’t let you hurt him. Don’t you see, if we work together we can all walk away from this.” She opened her palms, in what she understood to be a universal gesture of goodwill.

Hunter roared with laughter. Chakotay tried to move, but his leg wouldn’t support his weight. He made a faint groan.

Hunter advanced, taking slow, lumbering strides, grinning, muscles bulging, as if he was creating a show for the viewers, which Kathryn supposed he was. He was too strong, too powerful.

Yet she was nimble. She felt for the knife tucked into her pants, hidden under her tunic.

She glanced down at Chakotay, and whispered, “I think it’s time for the Janeway Manoeuvre,” hoping against hope that he would understand her meaning.

He met her eyes and nodded.

Kathryn turned back to goad Hunter. “You’ll have to go through me first, you Tarkalian slime beast! Everyone is going to see us beat you. Again.”

Hunter roared and rushed at her. The world was a blur of blue rage. Just as Hunter seemed to have her in his grasp, she dodged away. Chakotay thrust his arm out with a scream of pure pain, twisting his body to gain enough momentum to sweep Hunter off his feet. The big man floundered and fell to the deck.

Kathryn didn’t hesitate. She sliced Hunter’s bare throat in one swift movement. He grasped his throat, his face frozen in an odd look of surprise.

Kathryn stumbled and crawled her way to Chakotay.

“Kathryn,” he mumbled, chest wheezing as he fought for breath—all signs of the internal bleeding she'd feared. She clung to him, trembling, Hunter’s blood still on her hands.

“I have to get you out of here,” she whispered.

His eyes were unfocused. “We could explore the river,” he mumbled. “I’ll build you a boat…” His eyes fluttered shut.

“No, Chakotay. Stay with me!” She shook him hard enough to jolt him awake. His features contorted in pain, sweat pouring from his forehead, his usually golden skin a pallid grey. “Talk to me,” she insisted.

When he spoke, his words were laboured.  “I don’t have a story for this, but I guess you have good reason to be sorry we ever met. You’d be in the Alpha Quadrant right now, with a husband and your nice dog and…”

“Hush.” Kathryn put a finger to his lips. “I’ll never be sorry I met you. And I'm not sorry for our relationship, complicated though it is.”

“This is no good,” he said earnestly, each word costing him untold pain. “They told us only one of us would survive.” He gripped her hand. “It has to be you, Kathryn.”

“Oh, no, mister. Not on my watch.” Kathryn scanned the bare landing pad, her heart racing. There had to be something she could do, something she could use, a trick to pull out of her sleeve!

She retrieved the comms stick from her almost empty backpack, the scant food and water long gone. The signal she’d encoded was still transmitting, over and over. Then she noticed something else: A response transmission. Heart thumping, she activated the unit.

Harry. It was Harry’s worried face. “I’ve only got a few seconds. We got your message. Hang on, Captain, Commander. We’re on our way.” The transmission ended. They were coming. But how soon?

There was a whirring overhead. A deadly laser bot hovered over her shoulder. With a trill flourish, sounds and images appeared in the air.  A smooth voice spoke. “G’hrel Charack-Nore has fallen. Of the two contestants remaining in this year’s Le Tretz, Janeway leads the polls for victor. Her rival is badly wounded, although we’ve seen the underdog turn around before and fight back.”

“Ack, no,” came a second voice, tinny voice. “Did you hear him? These two have a history. He’s ready to die for her.”

Kathryn saw her own face projected in front of her. She looked ragged and worn, dark-eyed and pale, her hair stuck to her face, uniform torn and dirty. But most of all she looked angry. Furious. She wasn’t going to let this happen.

The laser bot moved in the air, hovering first at her shoulder, and then close to Chakotay.

Kathryn turned to the bot and spat, “This is deplorable. You want us to choose? Well, we won’t.”

There was a polite cough from the bot. A different, plummy kind of voice said, “I’m so sorry, but you really have no choice.”

“Go to hell!”  

The bot fired a red dart of fire at her feet.

“I don’t make the rules,” the voice said. “I just enforce them. Finish the job. You dispatched G’hrel Charack-Nore easily enough. Claim your victory!”

“I refuse.”

“Then I’ll be forced to kill you both.”

Another bot joined the first and hovered by Chakotay.

Kathryn flung herself between him and the bot.

Then the first bot shot an energy pulse across her chest just as the other bot let lose a reign of fire that singed Chakotay’s leg. He gasped in pain.

“You want a fight?” Kathryn said, swinging her knife at the bot. “I’ll damn well give you one.”

“Kathryn, no. I won’t let you sacrifice yourself for me!”

“Chakotay. You’re under my command,” she said, her voice cracking. “You’re my responsibility. I won’t let you die for me.”

“Kathryn,” he called, his voice so weak she had to move closer. He reached out for her hand. She took it, grasping his fingers as if her life depended on it. The bot came closer, but didn’t fire. It seemed to be focusing on their faces. “This is my _job_ ,” he said, sweat glistening on his lip. “Let it be me.”

Her head spun, refusing to accept the reality of the situation. “Nowhere in the job description does it say a first officer should die for his captain.”

“No, not as your first officer. As a man who’s tried to give up loving you, but just can’t do it. This makes sense. It does.”

“Bullshit.” She looked up, the light of revelation in her eyes. She’d seen his life slip away through the shuttle’s view screen, and lived three days with that terrible burden. She couldn’t let this happen. “I watched you die once. I won’t go through that again. _You_ live, Chakotay. _Voyager_ will get here.” She stood up and took a step towards the edge of the platform.

“What are you doing?”

“Choosing,” she said with conviction, her head held high. “If only one of us can survive, I choose you.”

“No!” Tears filled his eyes.

She took another step towards the edge. The world fell into a deafening silence, muffled and strange, except for her thundering heartbeat. It was so loud, she was certain _Voyager_ could hear it from light years away.

“Kathryn, please don’t,” Chakotay begged.

Hot tears sprung from her eyes, burning her cheeks. It was odd. She didn’t remember crying once, not since New Earth, not at her bleakest moments, at her most sad or frustrated or fearful. But at that moment, right at the end, she let herself weep.

She took the last step. Solid ground slipped away, and she was falling, falling, falling, the wind rushing in her ears, whipping away the wetness from her face. And when Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship _Voyager_ closed her eyes, her first officer’s tears were all she could see.


	10. The Janeway Manoeuver, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager arrives as Kathryn falls from the platform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, readers. I usually make a point of keeping to my schedule, but I've had a bereavement and there has been so much to organise that it's just been impossible to keep up. Thank you for your patience!

As Kathryn stepped off the platform, everything Chakotay had ever hoped for slipped away. He screamed her name, over and over until his throat was raw, dragging himself towards the edge, one crucifying centimetre at a time, every moment dreading what he would see when he looked over. The fiery shards of pain in his pelvis were nothing compared to the agony spearing his heart. 

She’d _died_ for him. 

What the hell had been wrapped up in that protocol-bound head of hers? Perhaps it was better that he would never know. The truth would destroy him either way: she either loved him enough to die for him, or she did it through a misplaced sense of duty. 

Getting to his feet was quite out of the question, so Chakotay pulled himself another arms-length forward. With every movement the shattered bone in his hip felt like molten glass. His head swam. He was burning up, his vision blurring. 

Another centimetre, but not close enough. The world spun. He lay flat against the metal surface, panting, heart-sick. Maybe he would die this way. Perhaps that was just as well. He’d sworn to stand by her side, carry her burdens, knowing full well what that meant: _Voyage_ r came first. He’d known that loving Kathryn Janeway while they were in the Delta Quadrant meant waiting, so why the hell had he gotten so angry and let them waste their precious time fighting? It seemed so foolish now. If she was truly gone, then maybe he’d let go, too. He couldn't move another micron closer to the edge, anyway.

Darkness stole the edges of his vision. At least he’d never have to face what was surely in the sand at the bottom of the platform; Kathryn’s broken body. 

**_Voyager: a few minutes previously._ **

A bead of sweat dripped down Harry's forehead and into his eyes. Hell, even Seven frowned with intense concentration. They had narrowed down the signal's source to the southern hemisphere of one planet and were headed there at top speed. Seven and Harry were monitoring all transmissions for anything that would help them find their people. 

On screen, the captain and Commander Chakotay climbed a ladder on the leg of a giant structure. What the captain and commander couldn't see, and Harry could, was the blue-skinned Hunter close behind them. 

He shivered and glanced at Seven. "How close are we?”

"We will be in transporter range in eight minutes," Seven said.

Harry wasn’t given to the vagaries of theological thinking, or futile entreaties to deities, but at that moment he prayed with all his heart for it to be soon enough.

#

Kathryn falls. Chakotay screams her name. In her final moments—and on one level she is aware these must be her final moments—are a riot of adrenaline and wind. She hears another scream, and wonders who is making it. 

The seconds stretch out.

_One..._

She’s faced death before, too many times. She’s known the agony of sending others to their graves. She has faced her own death with courage. Hell, she had a grandstand seat to her own demise and watched everyone mourn her when that despicable alien tried to trick her into his matrix. She half wonders if he is about to show up, but there is nothing except the roaring wind.

_Two…_

Regrets. That she can’t keep her promise to get the crew home. That she’ll never see her mother and sister again. That she never let herself love Chakotay while she had the chance. It seems foolish now. What the hell was she so afraid of?

#

Harry’s hands didn’t shake, because he would not permit shaking when he had just a split second to save his captain’s life. His heart was pounding, but his will was steel as his fingers flew over the transporter controls. Seven stood at his side, trying to lock onto the commander, but the platform on the planet below generated some form of interference. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on what happened in the next two seconds, the captain wasn’t _on_ the platform. For reasons Harry couldn't begin to understand, she’d just stepped into nothing and was plummeting towards the ground.

The lock fluctuated. Harry compensated. His stomach felt like a nest of andulian sand worms had taken up residence.

“Damn it!” He snatched a breath and tried again. This time the molecular coherence held. “I’ve got her in the buffer,” he muttered, beginning the re-materialisation sequence. “Now…”

The captain appeared mid scream, her hair wild, her knees almost buckling. Harry dashed towards her, to catch her if she passed out. “Captain, are you all right?” He clasped his hands to her waist, because her face had no business being that terrible shade of grey. Her uniform was tattered, her hands smeared with blood.

She put a grateful hand on his shoulder, gripping hard, momentarily dazed. She raised a finger on one hand, catching her breath. He felt her steady herself on her feet, and she said softly. “Thank you, Harry. That was too close for comfort.”

Harry knew, despite the horrors she and Chakotay had endured, she was still the captain.

He almost laughed his relief, and then self-consciously removed his hands from her waist. 

The captain turned to Seven. “Do you have the commander?”

“Almost, Captain. His lifesigns are very weak.  I’m compensating for the resonant interference from the minerals on the platform.”

The captain's eyes never left Seven as the former Borg drone worked. Finally Seven looked up. "I have him." 

“Good work. Beam him directly to sick bay.” The captain paused only for a moment. “Janeway to sickbay. You have an incoming patient. Commander Chakotay has a crush injury.”

“Understood,” the Doctor replied.

Harry looked at the captain’s pallid skin and cracked lips. “You don’t look in great shape, either, Captain.”

She patted his shoulder. “You’re not wrong, Ensign. I think I’ll just take myself to sickbay.”

Harry watched her go. “She must be feeling ill,” he said to Seven. “She never just takes herself to sickbay.”

#

Kathryn’s heart pounded as she fought not to run through the decks to Chakotay. What had happened to him in those moments after she stepped off the platform? 

When she had thought she was watching him die outside the shuttlecraft, the pain had ripped through her in physical waves, tearing her apart moment by moment. How much more dangerous had that been for him in his weakened state? Had she saved his life only for him to die of shock and internal bleeding? 

The ship rocked suddenly, triggering a wave of nausea. Kathryn hit her comm badge through gritted teeth. “Janeway to the bridge. Report.”

“Tuvok here, Captain.  We have been ordered by the Spiroteph warship off our port bough to surrender Commander Chakotay to be taken somewhere called ‘Victory Village’. Displeased with my refusal, they have opened fire.”

Kathryn leaned heavily against the bulkhead as a wave of dizziness threatened to unbalance her. There was no one to rescue now. Ka-Gwyn’s final resting place would be among the dunes. Kathryn would never meet her brother. She straightened up, took a breath. There was nothing left to fight for. “Get us the hell out of here, Tuvok. I’ll be in sickbay.”

“Understood.”

Kathryn stepped up her pace along the quiet corridors, all the time hoping she’d make it to sick bay before she lost her battle with the urge to vomit. 

“What’s his condition,” Kathryn snapped, as she entered sickbay.

The Doctor glanced up. “His hip is broken and requires surgery. Are you injured?”

“Nothing that a few glasses of water and a long bath won’t heal.”

The Doctor didn’t stop his work on Chakotay, but he spared her a longer glance. “You’re on the verge of heatstroke. Take off your uniform and lie down. I’ll get Mr Paris up here.”

The ship jolted. “Mr Paris is a little busy at the helm right now, Doctor. I’ll wait.”

Kathryn stripped off her jacket and and lay down on the biobed next to Chakotay's while the Doctor repaired his damaged bones. If it meant she could stay here by his side, then for once she didn’t mind waiting at all.

#

Chakotay heard muffled voices. Even through his closed eyelids he recognised the glare of sickbay. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he forced his eyes open, he saw a blue and black blur at his side. 

“Kathryn,” he muttered, part question, part accusation.

“She’s right here,” the Doctor said, stepping aside to reveal Kathryn wearing a loose fitting sickbay robe, sitting on the side of the next bed. 

Her skin was red and blotchy, her lips cracked, but to him she’d never looked more beautiful.

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “We’re both safe now.”

“You jumped...you...shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, the terrible images of her falling still fresh in his mind, the fear that had swamped him as she vanished lodged firmly in his heart.

She jumped down from the bed, and stood barefoot next to him. “I’ve done many things I shouldn’t have done, Chakotay, and failed to do many more that I should have. I hope you can forgive me.” She let her hand linger on his chest in a way that she hadn’t done in the longest time. Something familiar and yet new simmered in her eyes, something he wanted to understand, but everything was too bright and loud here in sickbay, and the Doctor hovering didn’t help.

He gripped her hand. “You are forgiven,” he whispered fiercely. “But please, never do that to me again.” He needed to talk to her privately, to discover what that flame in her eyes meant. "Can I get out of here?” he asked the EMH. 

"I can't release you from sickbay like this," the Doctor said, waving his hand along Chakotay's admittedly aching body. "Outstanding surgeon I may be, but your repaired bone needs time to stabilise." The EMH turned towards his office, effectively closing the subject.

Chakotay wanted to talk to Kathryn, but he really didn’t know how to start. He did know that the first thing was to get out of this damn sickbay, though.

"Kathryn, I'm going crazy here," he whispered. "You have to bust me out." He croaked at the Doctor’s retreating back, "What if I wear a cortical monitor?"

The EMH whizzed around to face him. "And how will a cortical monitor help you to the bathroom if you need it? You need to keep your weight off that leg. And you are on a high dose pain suppressant, which is making you visibly drowsy. You can’t be alone.” 

"What if I arrange for someone to assist him?" Kathryn interjected.

The Doctor squinted at her. "Well. I suppose that would be acceptable. I’ll make a list of instructions, and replicate a pair of crutches.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn said. The Doctor disappeared into his office. 

Chakotay gave her a sideways glance. What was she up to? “So who did you have in mind to nurse-maid me?”

“Well, since the Doctor saw fit not to clear me for duty for another forty eight hours, it would make sense if we looked after each other, wouldn’t it?” Then she added quickly, “If you’re comfortable with that.”

“You take care of me?” He rubbed his eyes, a little dazed. “What will the crew think?" He tried to laugh, but quickly dissolved into a grimace of pain. His eyes felt heavy, and he was having more than a little trouble processing this turn of events.

Kathryn put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m a little more interested in what _you_ think.”

He shook his head, trying to grasp something he couldn’t quite comprehend. “Kathryn…we need to talk about what happened down there,” he mumbled, as his eyes drifted briefly closed before he forced them open again.

“And we will. I promise. But when you’re feeling better. Just let me take care of you for now.”

“All right,” he said, with a small smile at the corner of his lips. If she wanted to take care of him, he wasn’t going to argue with that.

#

Less than an hour later, Chakotay was in his own bed in his quarters, with a pair of crutches in the corner of the room, and Kathryn was hovering, somewhat awkwardly, beside his bed. She’d never been in his bedroom before. Why would she have? She’d always maintained a professional distance, fitting for officers with such a precarious duty thrust upon them so far from home. Even on New Earth, when such excuses hardly applied, she’d gently rebuffed his tentative advances. She was deeply uncertain, even now, if he’d give her a second chance, or if it really was too late for them to ever be more than colleagues.

She had replicated them both a bowl of tomato soup, and they had eaten in companionable silence. Now he looked tired. It had been far too long since either of them slept properly. As she took his bowl he watched her with bleary-eyes.

“Are you ready to sleep?” she asked. 

“Yes, but...we should talk.”

“I agree. But…” She laughed softly. “…you can barely keep your eyes open.”

He sighed and shuffled back a little, and she helped him by moving his pillow until he was comfortable. He didn’t seem able to take his eyes off her face, as if he was afraid she’d slip away if he stopped looking at her.

“You’re really going to stay?” he said. “What would the crew think, seeing you come out of here in the morning?”

“They might conclude that I spent the night here,” she said softly, puffing his pillow a little in an unnecessary fussy gesture that gave her an inexplicable warm feeling.

He shook his head. "Is this the Janeway manoeuvre? Are you going to vanish in a puff of smoke?”  

She smiled softly. "Ah. No. I’ll be here in the morning." So, even now, he didn’t quite trust her. She leaned in closer to speak earnestly. “And I’ll continue to be here. As long as you want me.” 

He caught her arm, and held her gently but insistently, so she was just inches away from him. “Why did you do that? Sacrifice yourself for me?”

“Because it was right. Because I couldn’t watch you die, not again, not when there was something I could do to save you.”

He gripped her hand tightly. “Kathryn, promise you’ll never do something like that again.”

“You did the same for me. Outside the shuttle, you knew you wouldn’t make it, yet you still repaired the screen. Don’t you see our mistake?” she said softly, “We’ve been prepared to die for each other, when it should have been the other way around. We should be _living_ for each other. Building a life together, the best way we can. _That’s_ why I’m staying.”

He squinted at her. “You’re really not bothered by anyone seeing you leave here?”

Trapped by his hot gaze, she almost trembled. “If I’m honest, I’m a little bothered. I’m not sure what will happen if the crew think I spent the night in here with you. But I _am_ sure I’m prepared to deal with whatever scuttlebutt erupts.” She swallowed hard, feeling like her fate turned on this moment, that whatever happened next would mark the path of her life to come. She had to get it right. She took a breath. “I’ve loved you for such a long time. I’ve just been running away from it. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

She moved closer, and pressed her lips to his briefly, the most tentative of kisses, still afraid he would push her away, her heart beating furiously. The moment stretched to eternity. 

Finally, he drew her closer, and kissed her back, pulling her in deep. His lips were soft and gentle, yet heat surged through her like a supernova. The kiss left her gasping, her heart racing, as if time stopped and she was falling into the heart of a darkstar.

She caught her breath. She was bent over a little awkwardly, so he stretched over to pull back the covers. “Lie down with me, Kathryn,” he whispered.

She settled herself on the bed, moving close to him, careful not to touch his injured hip, looking deep into those expressive brown eyes. “All right, I’ll admit it,” she said softly. “That was a kiss to die for.” 

His smile seemed to light up the whole world. “No,” he said, touching her face tenderly, with an eternity of promises in his eyes. “That was a kiss worth _living_ for.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite and appreciate all feedback, including:
> 
> Short comments  
> Long comments  
> Questions  
> Constructive criticism  
> <3 as extra kudos  
> Reader-reader interaction
> 
> I always try reply to comments within a day or two; they make me unreasonably happy, and encourage me to keep going!


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